UC-NRLF 


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SWALLOWS  ON 


SWALLOWS  ON  THE  WING 


GARDEN   SPRINGS   OF   DELIGHT; 


WILL  DE  GKASSE. 


"  Tho  more  thy  glories  strike  my  eyes 
The  humbler  I  shall  lio  ;" 

For  it  is  prido  that  only  prevents  happiness  ,- 

"  Thus  while  I  sink  my  joys  shaiM'lpe  > ' 
Immeasurably  high." 


NEW  YORK  : 

PUBLISHED     BY    MICHAEL     DOOLADY, 

No.    448   BROOME  STREET. 
1866. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress  in  tho  year  1865, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  tho  United  States  for  the  Southern 
District  of  New  York. 


PREFACE. 


The  title  of  this  bouquet  of  summer  recreation,  under  the  name  of 
"  SWALLOWS  ON  THE  WING," 

may  suggest  to  some  minds  reminiscences  of  that  charming  piece  of 
music  known  under  the  name  of  "  When  the  Swallows  Homeward 
Fly,"  one  of  Schubert's  most  charming  songs.  To  others  it  may 
seem  typical  of  the  flight  of  those  summer  guests  who  skim  o'er  the 
watering-places  of  the  north,  and,  not  unlike  Gideon's  followers,  lap 
the  waters  only  to  slake  their  thirst  while  in  the  pursuit  of  those 
transitory  pleasures  which  a  hot  summer  compels  us  all  to  seek.  The 
additional  term  of  "  Garden-Springs  of  Delight "  may  hint  at  the  cur- 
sory character  of  mere  pleasure-seekers,  v;ho  hop  from  spring  to 
spring,  passing  over  the  real  delights  which  arc  contained  in  the 
inner  light  of  natural  beauty,  but  do  not  stop  to  consider  that  our 
strength  lies  often  in  sitting  still,  after  the  old  Italian  proverb,  Quida 
non  movere. 

**  The  rolling  stone  gathers  no  moss,"  and  a  hop,  skip,  and  jump, 
after  the  manner  of  boys  playing  at  hop-scotch,  is  no  less  typical  of 
the  leap-frog  processions  of  those  rapid  travelers  who  race  from 
Lund's  End  to  the  Falls  of  Niagara,  or  from  Penobscot  to  Milwaukic, 
as  if  life  and  death  depended  on  the  measure  of  their  velocity.  The 
habit  is  so  general  that  it  has  become  contagious.  It  is  the  fashion, 
and  that  is  the  end  of  it.  Nature  now  has  no  further  use  than  to 
supply  artificial  waterfalls  for  those  natural.  Gardens  are  turned 
into  illustrations  for  the  beauties  cf  the  fall  bonnets  ;  cataracts  arc 
delicately  converted  into  rats  and  mice,  which  lie  dormant  under  the 
liair  :  and  all  nature  is  swallowed  up  in  a  fcariul  distortion  of  ihv 


910001 


principles,  not  unliko  the  Duke  of  Bridge  water's  Treatise,  in 
he  proclaimed  "  that  rivers  were  made  to  feed  canaV  Thus  it  hap- 
pens that  swallows  become  gulls,  beauties  are  turned  info  beaux,  and  all 
the  springs  of  life  so  twisted  out  of  shape  that  our  carriages  ought  to  be 
dragged,  for  we  are  all  going  too  repidily  downhill.  Finally,  it  comes 
to  this,  that  the  grave  sw.dlow.s  us  all.  While  time  is  on  the  wing, 
we  are  all  passing  through  garden -springs  of  delight,  if  we  did  but 
know  it.  The  elastic  spring  of  "  her  little  feet  beneath  her  petticoat, 
like  little  mice,  run  in  and  out,  as  if  they  feared  the  light,"  and  the 
steel  spring  of  Brooks'  handsome  boots,  which  Adam's  offspring  de- 
light to  display  every  day  on  Broadway,  is  but  an  offset  to  show  off 
the  flaunting  wings  and  plumage  of  birds-of-paradise  and  pheasant, 
which  adorn  the  head-dresses  of  all  the  she-swallows  that  flit  along  our 
streets.  Notwithstanding  which  we  have  to  swallow  them  whole,  and 
are  ingulfed  in  such  a  maelstrom  of  delight  that  we  men  cannot  possi- 
bly escape  from  their  influence,  even  should  we  use  our  swallow 
ooat- tails  as  rudders  to  weather  out  their  storms. 
God  bless  and  preserve  all  the  women, 
Bui  allow  a  few  rights  for  their  men  1— Adiou  I 


REMINISCENCES  VQF,  3TOW& 


A.    SKETCH    OF    .A. 


SUMMER  TRIP  THROUGH  VERMONT. 


BOOK 

WHEN  a  man  in  a  boat  rows  one  way  and  looks 
another,  he  is  not  unlike  certain  people  who  go  into  the 
Cv  untry  on  a  pleasure  excursion  for  the  avowed  purpose 
of  enjoying  themselves,  or  improving  their  health,  dur- 
ing a  period  of  one,  two,  or  three  months,  according  to 
their  fancy.  What  a  strange  result  often  succeeds  their 
aspirations  alter  these  various  ends  !  How  often  have 
the  many  fond  imaginations  of  travelers  or  sojourners 
throughout  the  country  been  thrust  aside,  and  led  them 
to  misgivings,  as  to  whether  the  original  design  of  each 
individual  had  been  carried  out  to  the  full  extent  of  their 
programme  ! 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Plumpkins  intended,  perhaps,  to  save 
board  ;  for,  when  you  move  in  May  from  the  city,  it  is 
just  as  economical  to  board  in  the  country  for  six 
months  as  to  keep  a  hotel  for  your  negro  servants  in 
the  metropolis,  just  as  the  English  go  to  Bologne  for 
economy's  sake 


Jamaway  and  family,  with  thrco  small  children  and 
one  at  the  breast,  find:  it  best  to  pass  away  the  heated 
term  of  tho  yoa*,-  arrd  enjoy  their  pastime,  near  the 
marble  quarries  of  Vermont. 

JoncS  t'uicT  .family,  having  sent  their  carriages  and 
teams  ahead  with  Jenkins,  their  coachman,  may  choose 
Saratoga  as  the  best  place  to  do  their  snmmerings  at 
this  presont  rowdy  and  shoddy  resort  of  fashion  and 
extravagance.  What  cares  Publican  Franks  whether 
the  elite  longer  frequent  his  caravansera  or  not,  so 
long  as  Bill  Longdraft  comes  to  inhabit  his  rooms,  and 
is  willing  to  stable  his  four-in-hand  in  his  barns,  and 
open  his  six  bottles  of  champagne  a  day  at  the  table 
d'hote  ?  Such,  however,  is  life  at  Saratoga  now  ;  and 
the  place  where  the  world,  the  flesh,  and  the  devil  go 
is  the  spot  where  our  saints  like  best  to  study  out  the 
warnings  of  the  preachers ;  where  all  are  so  well 
exhibiting  the  everchanging  contrast  between  the 
lights  and  shadows  of  life.  Whichever  watering-resort 
is  sought,  by  whomsoever,  and  among  whomsoever,  it 
matters  not ;  the  same  things  always  happen,  "  that 
people  do  not  do  the  thing  they  first  pretended  to  when 
they  left  their  homes  for  to  do."  All  seem  to  be  trying 
their  utmost  to  make  themselves  as  miserable  as  pos- 
sible during  the  hot  weather  ;  and,  instead  of  going  up 
the  mountains  to  reside  there  during  the  interval  of  their 
absence,  they  remain  under  the  porches  of  an  inn,  always 
complaining-  about  the  heat,  or  frying  their  complexions 
in  the  sun,  and  getting  pretty  well  roasted  out  in  the 
Hi r  in  a  hot  valley,  quite  snugty  ensconced  between  the 
adjacent  hills,  so  that  they  get  so  well  baked  by  the 
time  they  are  ir;ady  to  go  home  that  you  would  think 


that  they  had  been  all  tho  time  basted  with  flour,  put  in 
a  Dutch  tin  roaster,  and  had  boon  so  well  cooked  that 
they  would  keep  well  preserved  all  through  the  winter, 
so  very  well  had  they  been  done  brown.  "  Verily,  this 
is  stepping  out  of  the  frying-pan  into  the  fire." 

For  instance,  we  quote  the  present  game  of  croquet, 
so  furiously  engaged  in  by  the  ladies,  with  an  occasional 
beau  for  a  partner,  for  the  men  were  so  scarce  this  sum- 
mer iu  these  regions  that  they  could  not  be  had  for  love 
or  money,  even  by  advertisement,  excepting  a  few  super- 
annuated old  bachelors,  who  boasted  they  had  passed 
seventeen  years  successively  at  Sharon,  Saratoga,  and 
White  Mountains.  What  a  wonder  that  the  waters  and 
the  snows  from  the  mountains  had  not  completely  washed 
them  out  of  the  way  !  But  notwithstanding  all  this, 
travel  is  a  mixed  matter,  and  all  of  us  being  but  passen- 
gers in  this  wilderness  of  life,  like  the  whole  fabric  of 
these  human  bodies,  it  has  its  warp  and  woof  of  contra- 
diction, folly,  and  delight.  A  little  health  is  the  gain,  a 
little  pain  sometimes  in  the  heart ;  the  gain  is  flirta- 
tion, poetry,  song,  festivity  ;  and  heart-burn  from  sorry 
victuals  and  bad  cooking  ;  and  amid  all  the  crowds  that 
are  hurrying  back  and  forth  through  the  mazy  intervals 
of  valleys,  water-courses,  and  waterfalls,  life  is  not  unlike 
a  rapid  stream  which  is  swiftly  flowing  and  wending  its 
course  toward  the  broad  ocean  of  eternity. 

Ever  and  anon  the  dream  is  broken  by  accident,  and 
sad  catastrophes  mingle  among  the  course  of  our  sum- 
mer experience  ;  for  example,  one  fair  damsel  has  a  fall 
and  breaks  an  ankle  on  Mount  Monadnock's  slippery 
side,  and  is  carried  down  the  hilly  path,  straddlec 
a-pig-back,  held  up  by  her  attendant  gallants,  tlu  - 


8 

only  and  a  novel  mode  of  constructing1  a  stretcher  for 
the  broken  limb.  Another  youthful  girl  is  accidently 
shot  by  a  pistol  carelessly  handled  by  her  lover,  at  Con- 
way,  New  Hampshire.  Two  fair  beauties  from  Gotham 
are  thrown  out  of  a  buggy,  the  harness  having  broken, 
and  themselves  saved  from  a  pitch  over  the  precipice, 
but  are  rescued  from  destruction  by  the  strong  arm  of 
the  gallant  Miles,  a  soldier  of  civic  fame  in  Brattle" 
boro'.  Not  far  oif  a  sad  murder  is  committed  in  a  barn 
at  Williston,  by  some  returning  stray  soldiers  of  fortune. 
A  barrel  of  gol4  was  the  prize  which  satan  held  out  to 
tempt  their  avarice  ;  but  there  was  retribution  in  the 
sacrifice  of  this  victim,  for  covetousness  had  early 
seized  the  brain  of  this  greedy  woman,  who  had 
boasted  that  she  would  never  be  satisfied  until  she  had 
got  her  barrel  of  gold  ;  she  was  killed  in  the  same  barn 
where  the  money  had  been  hidden  for  years,  and  long 
before  her  secret  had  been  disclosed,  as  it  was  heard  by 
a  wily  listener.  It  was  just  the  devil  breathing  the 
poison  in  the  woman's  ear,  as  in  the  old  time  of  Adam. 
Again  we  are  shocked  by  rumors  of  certain  moral 
falls,  and  sad  catastrophes  breathe  through  the  air  of  far- 
off  Gotham.  The  sulphurous  taints  of  Sodom  and 
Gomorarrah  reach  our  ears  through  the  channels  of  the 
daily  press,  while  non-residents  are  startled  by  the 
iniquities  of  Jenkins  and  the  constructive  gold  forgeries 
of  poor  young  Ketchum.  As  for  ourselves,  our  peace 
of  mind  was  too  valuable,  and  no  newspaper  was  suf- 
fered to  disturb  the  entire  period  appointed  for  our  fixed 
episode  for  rest  and  repose.  "  No  news  being  good 
news,"  as  saith  the  proverb,  why  bother  about  things 
which  do  not  concern  you  ?  as  for  bad  news,  it  flies  quick 


9 

enough.  But  to  return  to  the  course  of  travel,  let  us 
go  back,  as  one  is  often  compelled  when  starting 
horses  on  the  race-course. 

At  our  departure  from  New  York,  in  July,  wo  took 
the  Daniel  Drew  (not  having  first  stopped  to  enquire 
how  much  she  drew).  We  had  first  been  interrupted 
by  a  policeman  ordering  our  baggage-wager  off  the 
dock  (city  ordinance  requiring  all  private  carts  should 
be  licensed)  ;  it  was  thought  best  to  apologize  and 
pocket  the  affront,  and  we  promised  that  in  futuie  the 
family  name  should  be  properly  and  fully  painted  both 
on  our  cart  and  on  cur'  donkey.  We  had  a  very 
pleasant  sail  as  far  as  Albany,  and  nothing  further 
occurred  to  interrupt  the  journey  until  a  baggage-man, 
purporting  to  be  the  regularly  appointed  expressman 
ibr  the  Drew,  seized  hold  of  our  escort  just  as  we  were 
about  landing  at  the  steamboat  wharf,  and,  taking  the 
list  of  our  several  pieces  of  baggage,  gave  us  his  address 
on  a  card,  having  the  number  of  tho  checks  which  he  had 
placed  on  each  of  the  trunks  ;  these  we  retained,  and 
without  further  anxiety,  having  been  assured  by  this 
factor  that  we  need  not  be  at  all  concerned  about  its 
delivery  at  the  cars,  we  took  an  omnibus,  and  started 
in  great  haste,  in  order  to  take  the  train  which  was 
about  to  start  for  Saratoga  from  the  depot  Lear 
the  Delavan  House  .(for  there  was  just  five  minutes 
time  to  be  spared  in  this  hurry).  We  had  been  reas- 
sured that  the  luggage  would  follow  by  the  next  train, 
which  was  to  leave  at  7,  P.  M.— it  was  now  5,  P.  M.,  and 
that  we  would  find  it  all  safe  at  Saratoga. 

On  our  arrival  at  the  Clarendon  Hotel,  kept  by  one 
of  the  Lelands,  we  secured  rooms  for  the  ladies,  but 
1* 


10 

ufter  inquiring  after  the  trunks,  none  were  forthcoming 
What  a  predicament  for  a  party  of  ladies  to  be  left  in  ! 
They  might  as  well  have  been  left  without  waterfalls, 
crinoline,  or  money-bags.  In  traveling  dress  it  was 
very  difficult  to  present  ourselves  in  the  society  of  1he 
parlors  of  the  various  hotels,  but  one  could  peep  in  at 
the  windows  and  recognize  a  few  acquaintances,  who 
were  busily  chatting  and  gossiping  inside,  and  very 
much  engaged  in  discussing  the  characters  of  the  hop, 
at  which  they  were  expected  to  enjoy  themselves  a 
great  deal,  as  it  was  to  be  the  last  ball  of  the  season. 
The  pleasure  of  looking  in  through  the  windows,  while 
other  people  were  enjoying  themselves  in  dancing  and 
having  a  good  time  generally,  is  not  unlike  that  which 
Dickens  tells  of,  where  a  boy  is  supposed  to  view  an 
operation  through  the  front  glass  of  an  apothecary's 
shop  window  while  the  surgeon  is  cutting  off  a  man's 
leg  in  the  back  room,  out  of  sight;  or  like  that  peculiar 
burst  of  indignation  which  falls  from  a  near-sighted  per- 
son, who  drops  his  spectacles,  and  is  stopped,  stone  blind, 
in  the  middle  of  the  crisis  of  a  very  stirring  novel  which 
he  had  been  engaged  in  reading.  In  short,  there  was 
nothing  in  it,  as  Matthews  observed  after  he  had  walked 
up  Vesuvius  and  looked  down  the  crater,  "  There  was 
nothing  in  it  after  all."  The  fun,  like  the  fiery  lava,  was 
all  outside,  so  there  was  nothing  for  the  Fudge  party  to 
do  but  to  retire  to  the  hotel,  and  go  to  bed  that  night  to 
dream  of  the  lost  trunks  which  were  expected  to  arrive 
the  next  day. 

On  the  next  morning  search  for  the  baggage  was 
resumed.  No  trunks  were  found  even  after  having  dis- 
patched a  telegraph  and  a  special  messenger.  So,  after 


11 

having  attend*  if  the  races,  our  party  started  by  an  ex- 
press train  named  for  that  occasion  the  race-train.  We 
arrived  late  in  the  afternoon  back  at  Albany,  and  ther  j 
found  all  our  V  4  baggage  snugly  ensconced  in  the  freight 
depot  in  cfc--M£e  of  the  baggage-master,  where  it  had 
been  held  for  safe  keeping,  and  for  the  express  purpose 
of  getting  aj.  extra  quarter  of  a  dollar  for  every  piece 
of  impedmuntum  owned  by  each  member  of  our  party. 
Make  a  note  of  this,  and  chalk  it  down  as  "  Swindle  No. 
1."  Stick  a  pin  here.  The  next  beautiful  experience 
that  occurred  to  the  Fudges  was  in  our  dealings  with  the 
agent  of  that  new  arrangement  which  has  been  started 
recently,  at  an  office  near  Stanwix  Hail, in  a  rear  building, 
which  is  denominated  "  The  Troy  and  Boston  Railroad  : 
the  eld  and  reliable  all-rail  route."  Here  you  take  your  tick- 
ets through,  and  as  our  party  were  bound  for  Manchester, 
in  order  to  visit  the  Equinox  Mountains,  we  were  ticketed 
through  to  that  point  by  one  Mr.  Craven,  agent,  by  name; 
the  baggage  was  properly  marked,  and  the  two  ladies' 
money-bags  were  checked  as  one  piece  j  this  was  ex- 
pressly so  directed  by  said  agQafc,  and  performed  under 
the  eye  of  their  escort  and  ia  presence  of  the  hotel  por- 
ters. This  piece  of  caution  having  been  secured,  our 
party  started  by  the  Qity  railroad  cars,  and,  having 
passed  over  the  bridge,  were  ferried  across  the  Hudson 
to  the  city  of  Tray  opposite.  It  were  well  to  describo 
the  little  ferry-boat  which  plies  between  this  point  and 
Troy.  Imagine  a  very  respectable  large-sized  washtub 
to  which  paddles  have  been  attached,  and  that  an.  incon- 
ceivably small  cabin-like  shed  had  cohered  over  $ 
large  tea-kettle  which  keeps  puffing  away  under  a  high 
pressure  of  steam  with  the  furiousness  of  an  enraged 


12 

porpoise,  and  that  the  whole  machine  went  sputtering 
through  the  water  with  a  velocity  and  a  bluster  quite 
disproportionate  to  the  size  of.  the  machine,  and  you  will 
have  but  a  poor  idea  of  the  little  sea-monster  which 
plows  through  the  water,  near  these  Trojan  banks, 
on  the  Hudson,  and  which  has  no  simile  to  express  its 
peculiar  features,  not  even  in  those  little  black  steam- 
tugs  which  ply  on  the  Thames,  between  Westminister 
and  Waterloo  bridge,  in  London. 

We  had  no  sooner  landed  in  Troy,  and  taken  our  seats 
in  the  cars  on  the  Troy  side  of  the  river,  when  we  dis- 
covered that  one  of  the  small  bags  of  the  party  had 
been  cut  away  by  one  of  the  light-fingered  gentlemen 
who  frequent  the  depots  of  every  city,  and  like  birds  of 
prey  follow  after  the  trunks  of  travelers.  N.  B. — We 
are  happy  to  say  that,  after  several  telegraphs  and  sun- 
dry strong  epistolary  notes,  savoring  of  &  smack  of  the 
'egal  profession,  the  lost  small  bag  was  duly  forwarded 
to  the  owner  thereof  at  Boston.  We  do,  in  justice  to 
rhe  agent's  efforts,  thank  Mr.  Craven  for  its  expedition 
*o  our  friend's  address  on  Chestnut  street. 


13 


BOOK    SECOND. 


MANCHESTER     VILLAGE,      VERMONT. 

Whatever  other  people  may  say  of  the  delightful  cli- 
mate of  the  STREET  of  Manchester,  in  Vermont,  for  such 
is  the  title  by  which  non-resident  and  tmvn  folks  in  the 
vicinity  designate  this  plot  of  habitation,  we  found  it 
one  of  the  hottest  plains  in  Vermont,  situated  in  an 
interval  (for  valleys  are  so  entitled  in  this  region).  It 
is  embraced  within  the  two  ranges  of  hills  which  hem  it 
in  ;  the  Green  Mountains  on  the  easterly  side,  and  the 
Equinox  Mountain  on  the  westerly  slope.  Why  don't 
people  call  things  by  their  proper  names  ?  Were  it  not 
for  the  numerous  marble  quarries,  yielding  their  pro- 
duct of  calcareous  chalk  or  blocks  of  white  marble, 
derived  from  them  after  they  have  been  wedged  out  of 
their  strata,  there  is  scarcely  a  range  of  elevation  in 
the  State  of  Vermont,  excepting  Mount  Mansfield, 
near  the  village  of  Stowe,  which  is  truly  worthy  of  the 
name  of  "a  mountain."  Truth  demands  that  they 
should  be  always  called  what  they  were  first  named, 
"  The  Green  Hills  of  Vermont" — Ver  being  a  contrac- 
tion of  verdi— which  ancient  conglomerate  settled  down 
into  such  a  green  mixture  of  gray  wacke,  gneiss,  granite, 
hornblende,  and  into  cold  marble,  so  shocked  its  baro- 
faced  neighbor,  old  Mountain  Equinox,  that  nature  filled 
its  interior  with  a  basis  of  slate  in  sheer  opposition, 
which  could*  not  possibly  be  construed  into  anything 


14 

like  green,  even  should  any  strolling  artist  designate  it 
green  among  his  pencilings  in  slate-pencil.  In  fact, 
old  Equinox  was  so  jealous  of  its  own  mountainous 
characteristic  that  it  denied  having  any  connection 
with  the  Green  Hills,  and,  taking  refuge  among  the  spurs 
of  the  Adirondack  chain,  positively  refused  to  permit 
any  of  the  Vermonters  to  quarry  out  its  veins,  but  sent 
to  Wales  for  Welshmen  to  substantiate  its  own  con. 
sciousness  of  superior  rank  as  a  respectable  mountain. 
Notwithstanding  this  little  digression,  which  served  to 
while  away  our  stay  at  this  point,  we  can  say  that  they 
keep  a  very  fair  table  at  the  hotel  on  the  Street,  and  our 
hostess,  Mrs.  Orvis,  did  everything  to  make  our  visit 
agreeable  to  our  party.  The  rides  about  the  place  are 
quite  numerous  and  pretty,  and  can  all  be  done  after 
dinner  ;  the  most  charming  are  those  which  run  along 
in  sight  of,  and  on  the  borders  of,  Batten  kill,  the  most 
notable  stream  ever  distinguishable  among  these  hills, 
which  once  had  plenty  of  trout  in  its  waters,  but  now 
has  been  too  often  trolled  out  by  the  thousands  of  fisher- 
men who  frequent  this  country  village.  During  the 
summer  the  guests  of  the  hotel  are  privileged,  how- 
ever, to  try  their  skill  and  fish  on  the  Orvis  artificial 
pond,  near  by,  provided  their  product  is  placed  in  the 
larder  of  the  hotel.  On  the  whole,  this  is  a  good  place 
to  kill  time  in,  and  to  escape  from  the  corrupt  influences 
of  the  city  ;  or,  as  the  Italians  say,  one's  "  mlliagiatura" 
might  as  well  be  passed  at  Manchester  as  elsewhere, 
on  the  principle  that  ice  is  better  kept  when  covered  up 
with  a  blanket  than  by  any  other  means,  and  provided 
that  your  inn  is  well  kept,  house  room,  swept  nicely,  and 
your  Boniface  a  good  fellow  ;  warm-natured  people 


15 

mJffht  as  well  be  Bottled  down  near  these  quarry  store 
of  white  marble,  and  cool  off  under  the  shadow  of  these 
hills,  on  the  same  principle  that  one  looks  on  snow  to 
dream  of  Caucasus. 

The  ascent  to  Equinox  M  ountain  was  attempted  by  a 
couple  of  our  guests  on  horseback,  but,  as  we  are  not 
in  the  habit  of  telling  more  of  those  travelers'  tales 
than  the  truth  permits,  we  will  only  say  th:  t  we  did  not 
get  up  to  the  summit,  but  stopped  short  at  the  ruins  of 
an  old  block-house,  that  might  as  well  have  been  called 
a  log-cabin,  for  sheltering  parties,  and  having  plucked 
a  fir-tree  from  its  bed  among  the  rocks  (which  still,  as 
planted  by  us,  is  to  be  seen  at  the  house  of  the  Rev.  Dr. 

W 1  an  old  preceptor  of  one  of  our  party — a  memento 

of  our  failure,  but  a  monument  for  a  future  visit),  we 
left  the  summit  behind  us,  thus  saving  us  several 
hundred  yards  of  hard  climbing  ;  and  stretched  before 
us  is  that  sweet  perspective  of  distance  which  lends 
enchantment  to  the  view.  Rapidly  descending  the  sides 
of  the  mountain,  we  arrived  back  at  the  hotel,  having 
gathered  for  our  compensation  the  following  reflections  : 
That  we  did  not  see  the  view  which  might  have  beeu 
sighted  if  the  hot  misty  sky  had  nofc  prevented  us  ; 
that  all  we  did  see  was  a  fine  view  of  the  valleys  down 
below,  which  were  sprinkled  with  numerous  farm- 
houses, presenting  an  appearance  of  landscape  which 
resembled  mere  patches  of  bed-quilts,  such  as  are 
worked  into  the  varied  party-colors  of  a  country  bod- 
quilt  or  a  rag  carpet  ;  and  the  best  part  of  the  journey 
up  was  repaid  by  those  glimpses  of  scenery  which  are 
seen  as  you  ascend  and  look  through  the  openings  in 
the  forests,  whence  you  obtain  such  pictures,  along  the 


16 

running-  line  of  the  hills,  the  aspects  of  the  distant 
mountains,  the  rapid  lifelike,  rocky,  rilly  streams,  and 
the  far-off  villages,  which  present  to  the  beholder  such 
sketches  of  landscape  and  patches  of  beauty,  into 
minglings  of  shadows  and  light,  cloud  phantoms  and 
sunshine,  as  convey  to  the  artist  those  emotions  that 
form  his  ideas  for  studies,  to  be  finished  up  and  furnish- 
ed to  the  life  at  home  in  his  studio.  Apart  from  these 
there  is  naught  worthy  of  notice  except  an  occasional 
pleasant  conversation  with  an  old  friend,  seen  in  a  new 
aspect,  the  forming  of  new  acquaintances,  and  a  few 
happy  comparisons  and  criticisms  with  the  artist  along- 
side of  you.  It  is  not  worth  while  saying  anything  of 
the  fancy  ball  which  we  did  not  sec,  and  if  we  had  we 
might  have  been  tempted  to  say  some  foolish  things 
about  the  follies  of  the  fair,  and  the  fantasies  of  one 
graceful  lady  who  advertised  Sterling's  ambrosia  in  a 
more  extensive  manner  than  had  ever  been  before  ;  but 
of  the  rest  "  the  least  said  the  soonest  mended."  There 
is  a  pretty  little  Episcopal  church  at  Factory  village, 
many  very  intelligent  people  in  the  place,  many  warm, 
earnest  hearts  beating  with  all  those  ardent  feelings 
that  dwell  eternally  in  the  human  breast  ;  and  wo 
enjoyed  our  time  spent  there  for  Sabbath  rest  with 
b3nefit  to  our  souls,  and  listening  to  the  sound  of — 

Church  bells,  beyond  the  stars  heard — the  soul's  Wood  — 

The  land  of  spices — something  understood  ; 

And  in  prayer,  the  Church's  banquet — angel's  age  ; 

The  soul  in  paraphrase  ;  the  heart  in  pilgrimage. 

The  Christian's  plummet,  sounding  heaven  and  earth, 

God's  breath  in  man  returning  to  his  birth. 

— GEORGE  HERBERT. 


17 

While  there  one  of  our  party  left  for  an  excursion  to 
Lake  Memphramagog.  It  was  a  hurried  journey,  occu- 
pying three  or  four  days,  one  of  which  was  spent  on  oui 
return  o.t  Bellows  Falls,  of  which  place  more  will  be  said 
anon.  It  will  be  observed  in  travel  that  "  they  who 
know  least  about  a  place  are  the  first  to  deter  you  from 
going  to  see  it,"  and  that  there  are  a  hundred  different 
opinions  about  every  point  which  is  to  be  visited,  and 
every  place  to  stop  at  on  your  road.  One  says,  "  Don't 
go  to  Stowe,  it's  so  stupid  ;"  others  say,  "Don't  go  to 
Bellows  Falls,  they'll  run  you  down  on  the  Falls;7' 
another  says,  "  Don't  go  to  Brattleboro',  there  is  no 
water-cure  there  now,"  and  so  on  ad  injinitum.  Our 
best  advice  is  to  go  in  spite  of  all  that  other  people  say. 
There  are  always  some  kind  people  who  are  ready  to 
say,  as  they  did  to  Eothen,  "Don't  go  to  Cairo,  there  were 
two  men  of  the  same  name  as  yourself  who  died  there 
of  the  plague."  "  Don't  go  to  Spain,"  was  said  to  another 
party,  "the  banditti  will  murder  you."  In  spite  of 
which  we  did  go,  and  had  a  very  pleasant  time  in  both 
places.  The  chances  in  travel  are  those  of  the  sailor 
with  the  cannon  ball.  Two  balls  don't  often  go  through 
the  same  hole,  and  the  old  fable  sums  up  the  whole  mat- 
ter in  a  nutshell :  "If  you  want  to  dance,  you  must  pay 
the  fiddler  ;  "  and  again,  "  It  is  not  proper  in  any  case 
for  an  old  man  to  carry  the  donkey  on  his  shoulders 
when  he  has  sor.s  who  have  broad  backs." 

Now  that  the  railroad  is  finished  up  to  the  shore,  it 
was  found  best  to  go  to  Lake  Memphramagog  this  sum- 
mer, leaving  Bellows  Falls  for  another  time.  Mr.  S , 

of  Baltimore,  joined  me  in  this  excursion,  and  in  spite 
of  all  thai  wa.s  told  us  about  the  horrid  hotel  at  White 


18 

River  Junction,  we  pushed  on  northward  by  way  of  the 
Patumpsic  and  Connecticut  Railroad.* 

You  pass  several  places  of  interest  on  the  way  to  the 
lake.  At  Wells  river  you  may  take  the  railroad  as  far 
a s.Littleton,  in  the  direction  of  the  White  Mountains, 
and  further  on,  getting  out,  you  may  stage  it  from 
Brucc's  Station,  where  one  will  find  it  will  repay  a 
digression  by  a  trip  to  Lake  Willoughby,  which  is  so 
wild  and  dark.  Most  picturesque  and  gloomy  are  the 
high  walls  which  hem  in  the  contour  of  this  sheet  of 
water  ;  a  scene  for  a  romance  might  be  well  founded 
from  a  spot  which  presents  so  bold  and  fearful  an  aspect 
to.  the  vision  of  an  imaginative  traveler.  And  further 
on  as  you  proceed,  there  is  a  little  lake  at  about  seven 
miles  from  the  greater  Magog,  where  the  walls  of  a  bold 
limestone  formation  frown  over  the  scene,  and  the  lofty 
parapets  of  stone  present  a  fine  aspect  to  the  beholder 
as  he  is  riding  by.  While  approaching  the  end  of  our 
trip  we  were  again  warned  by  some  fellow-traveller  not 
to  take  the  little  boat  which  plies  from  the  lake  shore  to 
0 wPs  Head.  "  It  was  an  old  canal-boat  placed  on  wheels," 
said  a  returning  volunteer,  whose  evidence  proved  of 
very  little  value  on  examination,  for  he  had  not  been 
near  the  spot  for  a  number  of  years  ;  "  and  doubtless," 
replied  the  elder  of  our  party,  "  all  the  people  who  have 
been  steaming  on  this  boat  since  the  first  of  July  were 
drowned,  without  benefit  of  clergy."  It  was  the  old 

*  This  hotel  during  the  war  had  been  the  resort  of  all  the  bounty- 
jumpcrs,  and  of  course  they  left  a  very  bad  reputation  behind  them. 
I5ut  we  were  batchelors  ;  we  could  stand  it  for  one  night.  We  would 
not  advise  parties  with  ladies  to  stop  over  here.  We  found  the  beds 
were  clean,  and  the  bedrooms  well  furnisheJ. 


10 

story  of  the  old  man,  his  sons,  and  donkey.  Don't  carry 
it.  We  were  bound  to  go.  "Let  us  bo  drowned  to- 
gether," replied  my  friend  ;  and  we  did  start  by  this 
steam-tug,  shortly  after  dining  at  the  hotel,  which  is 
capitally  kept,  not  inferior  to  any  other  at  which  wo 
had  stopped  during  the  summer.  To  Owl's  Head  we 
went,  in  spite  of  all  ominous  predictions  to  the  contrary 
and  found  the  smallest  conceivable  sized  boat  in  the 
world  was  to  carry  about  thirty  people  as  far  as  this 
little  mountain,  which  seemed  from  the  wharf  about 
seven  miles  distant.  While  you  are  on  the  way  you 
cross  the  domains  of  her  British  Majesty  the  Queen,  and 
while  the  captain  was  obliged  to  hand  the  ship's  manifest 
to  one  of  her  officers,  we  surveyed  the  proportions  of 
the  custom-house,  which  was  constructed  of  pine  boards. 
Surely  the  Queen  is  not  very  handsomely  represented 
by  the  buildings,  which  here  stand  for  the  dignity  and 
powers  of  the  kingdom  of  England,  for  the  receipt  of 
her  revenue  at  this  point.  While  those  on  the  boat  were 
whiling  away  an  hour  at  the  base  of  Owl's  Head,  we 
had  an  opportunity  of  rowing  a  farmer  across  the  lake, 
and  thereby  had  a  fine  view  of  the  Smugglers'  Cave,  and 
were  favored  with  a  grand  panoramic  view  of  the  whole 
lake.  Memphramogog  is  one  of  the  finest  sheets  of 
water  in  America,  and  when  Canada  is  annexed  to  the 
United  States  it  will  be  more  beautiful  still.  But  at 
present  still  waters  run  deep,  and  wu  must  abide  our 
time.  . 


BOOK    THIRD. 


The  passage  back  from  the  foot  of  Owl's  Head  Moun- 
tain was  attended  with  no  other  incident  than  that  of 
stopping  a  few  minutes  in  order  to  procure  some  of  the 
famous  muscalongue  trout  which  are  caught  on  the 
lake.  They  are  peculiar  to  these  waters,  but  are  rarely 
taken  except  by  the  most  expert  fishermen.  We 
returned,  by  the  Patumpsic  and  Connecticut  Railroad  via 
St.  Jolmsbury  and  Windsor,  to  Bellows  Falls,  to  spend 
Sunday  at  the  latter  place,  where  I  met  one  of  iny  ac- 
quaintances of  the  New  York  bar,  who  fvas  on  his  way 
to  the  lake;  and  on  the  Sabbath  evening,  after  tea,  we 
agreed  to  climb  up  the  hills  in  front  of  the  Island  House, 
where  we  viewed  together  the  sun  as.it  descended  behind 
the  horizon.  The  lansdcape  here  exhibited  is  not  to  be  sur- 
passed by  any  other  point  on  the  Connecticut  river,  and 
not  less  appreciable  from  the  summits  of  admiration  in 
which  it  was  regarded  by  my  companion,  who  was  here 
enjoying  his  vacation.  With  what  pleasure  we  observed 
together,  the  glories  of  the  scene  before  us,  resting 
awhile  at  various  stages  in  the  ascent  ;  in  fact,  lying 
down  on  the  grass  at  intervals,  and  at  one  spot  admired 
one  of  the  most  beautiful  sugar-maple  trees  that  ever 
spread  its  arms  to  ornament  tho  face  of  nature.  Many 
glimpses  of  beauty  appeared  through  several  openings 
in  the  distance,  and  at  every  stand-point  a-  new  aspect 
of  the  rich  landscape  spread  before  us.  How  majestically 


21 

the  Connecticut  wound  its  ribboned  veins  through  the 
rich  lawns  of  green  valleys  that  husbanded  the  richly 
cultivated  plains,  and  how  sweetly  and  luxuriously 
swelled  the  rounded  forms  of  the  rolling  mounds  of 
furrowed  land,  more  lovely  than  even  the  blushes  of  the 
declining  sunset  gilding  the  mountains,  but  not  to  be 
compared  to  the  full,  heaving,  throbbing  swells  of  the 
bosom  of  a  beautiful  woman.  The  whole  scene  recalled 
those  sweet  lines  of  Dr.  Watts  : 

"  How  fine  has  the  day  been,  how  bright  was  the  sun, 
How  lovely  and  joyful  the  course  that  he  run  ; 
But  now  the  fair  traveler  comes  to  the  west, 
His  rays  are  all  gold,  and  his  beauties  are  best ; 
He  paints  the  sky  gay  as  he  sinks  to  his  rest, 
And  foretells  a  bright  rising  again  ; 
And  gives  a  sure  hope,  at  the  end  of  his  days, 
Of  rising  in  brighter  array.'1 

Let  us  back  out  of  such  sentimentalism,  and  change 
from  mountain  to  the  sea.  It  is  a  long  day's  ride  by 
railroad  from  Manchester,  Vermont,  over  the  mountains, 
by  the  way  of  Keene  and  Boston,  to  Rye  Beach,  in  New 
Hampshire. 

The  new  hotel  at  Rye  Beach  is  nicely  kept  and  well 
appointed.  Fashion  has  claimed  its  halls,  and  the  usual 
summer  delights  are  to  be  enjoyed  there,  not,  perhaps, 
always  in  the  sea,  nor  in  the  hotel,  save  in  the  society  of 
pleasant  people  ;  for,  after  all,  this  sought  pleasure  is 
purchased  through  a  thousand  perturbations  of  heart, 
and  amid  all  the  throbs  of  active  human  life — the  most 
miserable  of  all  beings  is  the  mere  woman  of  the  world.. 
We  enjoyed  one  thing  only  in  and  about  this  place 
called  Rye,  and  that  was  a  sail  in  Philbrick's  yacht, 


from  the  harbor,  near  the  Atlantic  House,  to  the  old  Boar's 
Head,  where  in  my  boyhood  I  had  fished  for  bright  cod 
and  dark  tautog,  and  shot  plovers  in  the  neighboring- 
marshes.  There  is  pleasure  on  the  boundless  sea,  and 
its  throbbing  waters  filled  me  with  glorious  emotions. 
The  heart  leaps  in  response  to  the  music  of  its  summer 
waves  ;  all  is  sublime  in  the  upheavings  of  the  bound- 
less ocean. 

Return  now,  and  chassez  across  to  the  regions  of  Wa- 
tcrbury,  and  back  to  Stowe,  through  Concord,  in  New 
Hampshire.  Passing  by  Epping,  we  were  detained  by 
the  crowd  hurrying  away  from  the  Methodist  camp- 
meeting.  The  cars  were  full  of  singing  men  and  women, 
arid  all  was  cheerful  as  the  marriage-bell  until  we 
landed  at  Concord.  Next  morning,  by  way  of  White 
River  Junction  and  the  Vermont  Central,  we  reached 
Waterbury,  about  4,  P.  M. ;  there  taking  the  old- 
fashioned  coach,  with  six-in-hand,  we  started  off  for 
Stowe.  After  the  first  four  miles,  the  swelling  lines  of 
hills  show  the  approach  of  the  more  remote  and  loftier 
mountains.  All  the  way  along  the  line  of  the  railroad 
small  hillocks  appear,  like  young  children,  denoting  a 
promise  of  a  larger  growth  in  youth  and  manhood. 
This  is  continuously  true  until  you  reach  Mount  Mans- 
field, the  highest  point  in  Vermont. 

We  landed  at  the  Mount  Mansfield  Hotel  at  7  o'clock, 
P.  M.,  which  is  kept  by  a  Company,  the  presiding 
genius  of  which  is  a  counselor-at-law,  one  Bingham,  and 
Bowman,  his  attorney,  in  fact.  All  professions,  there- 
fore, may  find  themselves  at  home  here,  where  one  is 
well  kept,  and  boarded  very  cheap  ;  for  people  have  a  con- 
science in  the  town  of  Stowe,  as  we  found  by  our  own 


experience — experientia  doc^t,  such  is  the  wisdom  of  the 
sage  Solomou,  often  learned  by  hard  knocks  and  rough 
railroad  travel.  Now  we  are  in  it  for  a  fortnight,  let  us 
settle  down  into  a  systematic  review  of  the  pleasures 
and  pastimes,  recreations  and  delights,  to  be  enjoyed  at 
Stowe.  Many  years  ago  one  Huntirigton  and  a  party 
of  artists  were  strolling  among  the  mountains  of 
Vermont  in  search  of  the  picturesque,  and  equally  as 
ready  to  draw  a  sketch  as  to  take  a  fish  out  of  the  many 
trout  streams  which  abound  in  the  vicinity  of  Stowe. 
(Trout  are  very  scarce  there  now,  and  can  only  be 
caught  with  the  lure  of  a  silver  hook.)  But  amid  the 
wilds  and  unopened  paths  of  these  mountains,  some- 
how or  other,  these  wanderers  had  lost  their  way, 
and  when  by  chance  they  afterward  discovered  it,  it 
was  but'  to  bivouac  in  the  nearest  farm-house,  where 
they  stowed  their  luggage,  and  thence  yclept  this  name 
of  Stowe. 

In  order  to  give  a  good  idea  of  the  many  ways  in 
which  to  beguile  your  time  at  this  place,  begin  with 
the  rides,  which  are  the  Notch  ;  up  Mount  Mansfield  to 
Morristown  Falls,  and  its  rapids,  resembling  somewhat 
Trenton  (embracing,  that  is,  Hyde  Park)  ;  Glen  Palls 
view  ;  the  lake  on  Elmore  Mountain  ;  the  drive  to 
Nebraska,  over  the  Notch,  and  back  ;  the  excursion 
round  Mansfield,  and  back  by  way  of  Cambridge,  home  ; 
the  Bingham  waterfall,  recently  opened,  and  several 
delightful  points  to  be  visited,  even  if  one  varies  the 
excursion  by  a  trip  over  "  Hogback  "  to  Watertown, 
and  thence  to  Montpelier.  Air,  open-air  exercise,  out  in 
the  sunshine,  or,  even  on  the  hottest  day,  riding  on  horse- 
back, walks  afoot,  walkings  in  company,  moonlight 


24 

excursions,  and  its  romantic  attendants,  poetry  and 
song,  constitute  the  means  of  recreation,  and  are  the 
proper  ways  by  whbh  to  establish  your  health.  Don't 
be  afraid  of  the  sun  ;  light,  air,  and  freedom  in  the  use  of 
your  arms  and  legs,  unrestricted  by  tight  clothing,  are  as 
essential  to  mankind  or  women  as  they  arc  to  the  birds, 
animals,  and  flowers.  Healthy  people  go  hero  to  enjoy 
the  real  blessings  of  health ;  sickly  people  can  be 
nursed  better  at  home,  they  are  not  improved  by  rough- 
ing it  and  dissipation,  be  the  spot  Stowe,  Saratoga,  or 
any  one  of  the  summer  watering-resorts.  Do  not  stick 
in  the  hotel,  in  the  hot  atmosphere  of  gossip,  scandal, 
and  peevish  complaint ;  the  worst  of  victuals  are  good 
enough  for  splenetic  temperaments,  and  there  are  hos- 
pitals for  diseased  minds  and  disordered  bodies.  But 
go  out,  enjoy  everything  with  a  freshness  of  apprecia- 
tion, and  play  at  croquet,  even  with  the  hot  sun  blazing 
over  your  head,  and  never  mind  people  who  arc 
always  grumbling  about  the  hot  weather,  which,  if  not 
firmly  resisted,  will  entirely  prevent  you  from  ever  get- 
ting out  of  the  hotel,  and  deprive  you  of  very  many 
pleasant  excursions. 

On  the  whole,  many  are  the  delights  of  Stowe.  All 
the  praises  that  we  have  heard  in  its  favor  prior  to  our 
visit  fell  short  of  the  reality  of  our  enjoyment  of  the 
treasures  of  beauty.  What  can  exceed  the  grandeur  of 
the  Notch?  the  Smuggler's  Notch  as  it  is  called  ;  the 
light  ascension  on  Barton's  Kock,  which  crowns  the  end 
of  this  valley  of  green,  where  the  ribbed  rocks  are  gar- 
landed with  rich  verdure  up  to  the  summit  of  their  ele- 
vated bulwarks,  and  where,  at  every  point  of  your 
enraptured  vision,  are  spread  bouquets  of  moss-covered 


25 

boulders,  which  are  scattered  at  intervals  as  you  ap- 
proach toward  the  fountain  of  the  cool  spring-  of  ice- 
water  that  issues  out  of  its  hidden  chamber  in  the  rocks. 
What  more  sublime  than  the  heights  of  Old  Mansfield's 
Nose,  where  the  winds  blow  with  the  force  of  a  hurri- 
cane, and  the  wild  fir-trees  bend  their  forms  in  homage 
to  its  majesty  ?   The  valleys  lay  open  their  beauties  and 
fill  us  with  admiration  and  delight.     "  We  praise  Thee, 
0  God  ;  we  acknowledge  Thee  to  be  the  Lord,"  was  the 
burst  of  our   enthusiasm  as    we   looked  down  on  the 
plains  below,  where  the  vales,  of  gardens  and  fields,  were 
fertilized  by  the  channels  of  the  running  streams,  and, 
standing  thick  with  corn,  make  the  hills  rejoice  on  every 
side.      Nothing   can    be   more  pleasing   or   invigorat- 
ing than  such  prospects  to  those  who  relish  the  simple 
beauties  of  nature.     We  could  speak  of  the  pleasant 
domestic  society  of  this  admirable  resort ;  of  the  many 
pleasant  people  who  really  do  enjoy  their  visit  to  this 
spot,  and  find  that  it  has  been  good  for  them  to  have 
been  there.     The  society  of  the  parlors  was  more  like 
that  of  the  home  circle,  and  they  met  together  here  as 
friends,   to  have  a  good  time  together.     Many  of  the 
guests  had  been  there  since  June  ;  some  from  Boston 
spend  the  whole  summer,  and  gather  around  themselves 
all  their  relatives,  who  are  drawn  hither  by  the  amenities 
of  this  newly  discovered  Utopia.    We  could  speak  of  the 
very  pleasant  walks  we  had  together  ;  of  the  Sabbath  eve- 
ning spent  on  Sunsefc  Hill,  just  back  of  the  hotel  ;  of  the 
sweet  music  which  poured  from  the  throats  of  that  happy 
band  of  sweet  singers  who  sat  on  the  rock,  as  the  last 
rays  of  the  sun,  lingering  still  as  if  reluctant  to  depart, 
and  of  the  reminiscence  of  the  Saviour,  whose  love  to 
2 


26 

Mary  and  Martha  led  Him  to  call  us  all  His  friends,  and 
who  delighted  to  seek  the  mountain-top  for  prayer  and 
meditation  ;  and,  repeatedly,  emotions  of  the  highest, 
gratitude  arose  in  the  midst  of  this  group  of  innocent 
girls,  as  we  viewed  the  glories  of  departing  day. 

Again,  we  find  pleasure  in  the  recital  of  the  gold- 
hunting  party,  who  were  so  cleverly  grouped  in  the  gay 
scenes  of  the  gold-washers,  by  the  photographer  of  Stowe, 
than  whom  few  are  more  successful  even  in  Gotham. 
There  were  also  at  the  hotels  several  very  good,  and 
some  distinguished,  artists,  among  whom  was  the  excel- 
lent President  of  our  own  Academy  of  Design.  We  will 
say  nothing  of  one  true  lover  of  his  art,  so  quiet  in  the 
study  of  all  the  natural  beauties  about  the  town  and 
vdcinity  of  Stowe,  a  proper  "  Jtuss  in  urbe"  doubtless 
well  considered  and  truly  appreciated  alongside  of  his 
companion  of  the  easel,  one  Hogsdon,  whose  "  wine 
needs  no  bush"  to  herald  his  fame.  But  of  the  singing 
women  and  graceful  beauties  of  the  parlor  it  becomes  us 
not  to  over-praise  them.  Their  charms  are  better 
sounded  by  the  poets,  and  we  leave  our  theme  to  the  muse 
who  wrote  those  beautiful  verses  which  were  sung  by  a 
quartette  of  sweet  voices  under  the  windows  of  the  hotel 
it  midnight,  after  the  return  of  the  party  of  excursionists 
who  had  left  that  morning  at  half-past  four  for  St.  Albans 
We  all  appreciated  the  sound  of  music  at  night,  and  one 
may  best  understand  how  well  we  were  entertained  by 
the  gushing  utterance  of  this  band  of  nightingales,  when 
you  are  reminded  by  those  trilling  notes  of  a  bugle  on 
Hie  lake,  when  the  moonlight  is  shining  at  the  zenith  of 
ts  splendor,  and  the  solemn  quiet  and  calm  of  nature 
s  summed  up  in  "  an  audible  silence." 


27 

BUMMER  DAYS  AT  STOWE. 
i. 

Come,  comrades,  join  your  voices 

In  song  before  we  go  ; 
The  forest  aisles  will  echoes  ring, 

And  bear  the  strains  below. 
As  over  us  the  moments  pass, 

The  moments  lightly  flow, 
We'll  sing,  with  praise  of  summer  days, 

Of  summer  days  in  Stowe. 

ii. 

'Neath  the  shadows  of  the  mountains, 

Where  the  red  man  drew  his  bow, 
We'll  gather  round  the  social  board, 

And  naught  but  pleasure  know. 
And  when  with  reminiscences 

Our  hearts  are  all  aglow, 
We'll  sing,  with  praiso  of  summer  days, 

Of  summer  days  in  Stowe. 

HI. 
Had  this  been  Adam's  Paradise 

Six  thousand  years  ago, 
No  tempter  e'er  had  entered  in 

To  fill  the  world  with  woe. 
Eve  would  have  sung  her  vesper  hymn 

In  cadence  sweet  and  low, 
As  we  sing  now  of  summer  days, 

Of  summer  days  in  Stowe. 

IV. 

Now,  on  the  threshold  of  the  night, 

Sol,  lingering,  bids  us  go, 
And  leave  the  homes  of  fairies  bright 

Unvexed  by  foot  of  foe. 
But  let  no  chilling  touch  of  time, 

While  wandering  to  and  fro, 
Danish  the  thought  of  summer  days, 

Of  summer  days  in  Stowe. 


28 
BOOK    FOURTH. 

CONTINUATION    OF    STOWE. 

On  the  last  evening  we  spent  at  Stowe,  it  was 
laie  Saturday  afternoon  ;  we  had  one  of  the  finest 
showers  of  the  season ;  people  had  been  praying 
for  rain  several  Sundays  back,  and  the  crops  were 
suffering  for  lack  of  moisture  ;  the  blessing  came  at  last, 
and  thanksgiving,  of  course,  followed  from  all  the  thirsty 
farmers.  We  notice  this  shower  particularly  for  the 
reason  that  a  large  number  of  the  guests  had  been 
caught  out  in  the  storm,  some  on  horseback,  some  in 
buggies,  others  on  buck-boards — a  new  way  of  riding  on 
a  spring  cart,  whereby  a  plank  constitutes  the  seat,  and 
a  buffalo  robe  the  saddle — others  in  carriages,  and  not  a 
few  on  foot.  They  most  all  had  a  good  ducking  and 
came  home  dripping  wet,  more  like  drowned  rats 
than  the  elegantly  dressed  ladies  and  gentlemen  who 
had  started  out  to  ride.  We  were  fortunate  in  having 
escaped  this  deluge,  having  been  warned  not  to  attempt 
any  outside  exercise,  first  by  the  appearance  of  the 
sky,  and  secondly  by  a  good-natured  hostler,  who  would 
not  let  us  depart  from  the  hotel,  although  we  had  en- 
gaged a  team.  But  we  had  our  compensation  in  going 
up  on  top  of  the  hotel,  and  there  remaining  half  an 
hour  under  the  shelter  of  the  belvedere,  in  the  company  of 
several  ladies  ;  we  enjoyed  the  glorious  prospects  which 
wore  there  presented  by  various  changes  in  the  sky  dur- 
•ng  the  progress  of  the  shower,  and  observed  the  numerous 


29 

storm  clouds  in  the  lights  and  shades,  which  were  shift- 
ing continually  around  the  horizon ;  and  vivid  flashes  as 
of  lightning  displayed  tho  rich  green  belts  of  the  bend- 
ing willows  waving  over  both  banks  of  the  Onion  river, 
which,  like  a  girdle  of  evergreen  bushes,  could  bo  disco v- 
ered  at  this  point  of  view,  as  it  wended  its  serpent-like 
folds  throughout  its  whole  superficial  range  in  the  per- 
spective of  the  valley  before  your  vision  ;  added  to  this 
was  a  border  of  the  numerous  mountains  which  fringes 
the  plains  of  Stowe,  where,  at  one  point  of  sight,  werl 
to  be  seen  Mount  Mansfield,  Sterling  Mountain,  and  the 
old  bald  face,  El  more  Mount,  the  Saddle  Back,.  Hog- 
back Hills,  and  other  lofty  elevations,  forming  a  delight- 
ful picture,  and  perfecting  one  of  the  most  gorgeous 
panoramas  to  be  found  in  the  whole  extent  of  the  Green 
Mountains. 

On  Tuesday  morning  we  took  our  leave  of  Stowe, 
and  stopping  at  Montpelier,  which  is  one  of  the  most 
interesting  places  in  Vermont  visited  by  us.  The  State 
house  is  not  excelled  in  the  elegance  of  its  structure  *by 
any  other  building  erected  for  government  purposes  in 
the  United  States,  and  only  surpassed  in  beauty  by  the 
massive  proportions  of  the  capitol  at  Washington.  Tm< 
same  architect  designed  both  edifices.  The  former  has 
been  planted  firmly  on  a  rock,  for  its  foundation  was 
hewn  out  of  the  stony  hill  in  its  rear,  upon  which  pei 
manent  location  may  it  stand  as  long  as  the  duration  oi 
our  own  noble  Constitution — Esto  Perpetuo  ! 

Into  the  interior  I  was  conducted  by  the  amiable  and 
Honorable  Judge  Noyes,  who  told  us  that  he  had  once 
been  a  member  of  the  Sonate  and  of  the  Assembly  in 
'his  State,  and  very  courteously  pointed  out  to  us  tlu 


80 

seat  which  he  once  occupied  as  a  representative  of  his 
constituents  in  Vermont.  While  in  another  portion  of 
;he  upper  hall,  he  showed  us  a  beautifully  painted  por- 
;rait  of  the  Honorable  Judge  Williams,  who  had  once 
jeen  the  Chief-Justice  of  the  State,  and  that  this  depic- 
:ion  of  their  ablest  lawyer  had  been  presented  by  the 
nienLers  of  the  Vermont  bar.  In  every  portion  of  the 
country  we  found  it  very  pleasant  to  find  this  honorable 
profession  very  ably  represented  ;  and  in  spite  of  the 
contumely  with  which  many  of  us  are  treated,  we  believe 
it  still  worthy  of  the  respect  of  all  fair-minded  citizens. 
The  character  of  the  solidarity  of  the  Green-mountain 
State  is  well  sustained  by  the  many  specimens  of 
marble  which  are  kept  in  the  cabinet  of  mineralogy, 
which  is  to  be  seen  in  the  last  chamber  in  the  north 
side  of  the  lower  hall.  No  less  than  one  hundred  and 
fifty  varieties  of  the  various  quarries  are  there  collected, 
and  some  of  the  samples  arc  as  beautiful  and  firm  as 
any  that  have  been  imported  to  this  country  from  Italy. 
They  have  also  placed  under  one  of  the  cases  a  very 
perfect  specimen  of  the  skeleton  of  an  antediluvian 
whale,  which  was  dug  out  of  the  marl  formation 
in  one  of  the  neighboring  counties.  In  the  afternoon 
we  took  a  long  drive  clown  the  side  of  the  Onion  river, 
and  returning,  after  having  visited  the  cemetery,  took 
a  northerly  direction,  and  followed  the  river  road  up  as 
far  as  the  village  of  Little  Barry,  where,  in  a  fine  build- 
ing, a  very  fair  boarding-school  for  young  ladies  ia 
kept.  Thence  passing  over  the  hill  road,  we  turned 
back  in  the  direction  of  home,  and  leaving  West  Mont- 
pelier  village,  a  short  distance  in  view  from  our  right, 
:  we  were  driven  through  a  very  romantic  and  pictur 


31 

esque  road,  lately  engineered  alongside  of  the  banks 
of  the  largest  branch  of  the  Onion,  where  the  pathway 
at  times  seemed  very  hazardous,  passing  as  it  did  sc 
closely  along  the  bank  of  the  stream.  At  these  points 
it  seemed  very  wild  and  rapid,  and  flowing  swiftly 
rushed  over  the  rocks  in  the  way,  and  breaking  at  inter 
vals,  dashed  into  several  very  pretty  cascades  anc 
waterfalls. 

It  is  out  of  the  waters  of  this  branch  of  the  river,  in  the 
shoals,  when  the  water  is  low,  that  the  celebrated  Mont- 
pelier  pearls  are  taken,  and  which  can  be  had  there  at 
the  New  York  market  value,  and  not  a  fraction  lower. 
Mr.  Mead,  the  jeweler,  to  the  contrary,  and  his  Yankee 
notions  notwithstanding. 

Why  repeat  any  further  the  course  of  our  travel  after- 
ward,  when  we  had  left  Montpelier  and  were  on  our  way 
home  by  way  of  White  Kiver  Junction  and  the  Vermont 
Central  and  Connecticut  River  Railroad,  and  so  on,  by 
way  of  Bellows  Falls  to  Brattleboro',  where  we  stopped 
for  a  fortnight's  rest  at  this  beautiful  and  romantically 
situated  town  ? 

Stowe  has  its  beauties,  Manchester  its  ;  the  green 
pasture  lands  of  Greenfield  no  less  claim  attention 
from  the  artist  and  the  poet  ;  but  of  all  the  places 
for  a  poor  mortaPs  sojourn  for  the  summer  (now  that 
its  water-cure  establishments  have  ceased,  "  let  ducks 
take  to  water,  for  'tis  their  nature  to")  BraUleboro*  is 
our  delight  ;  that's  the  spot  for  us,  and  Apfelbaum,  our 
hotel  keeper,  named  Appletree  in  English,  that  social 
German,  is  the  host  for  us,  whose  house,  called  the 
11  Lawrence  House,"  keeps  itself  on  the  German  plan, 
and  has  a  sort  of  laissez-aller  in  its  own — where  everybody 


32 

doc3S  as  he  pleases,  Und  of  course  is  pleased  with  himself 
and  with  everybody  else,  for  vanity  is  defined  by  the 
poet  as  "  the  sweet  reflection  of  one's  own  sweet  self 
into  the  self-same  image  of  another's  mind."  This  Emil 
Apfelbaum  kept  a  very  sloppy  house.  When  the  rattling 
stage-coach  landed  us  at  the  front  door,  we  were  ushered 
in  with  our  trunks,  that  is  to  say,  we  carried  our  own 
trunks  on  our  proper  persons,  but  how  the  trunks  ever 
got  off  the  stage  and  were  landed  in  our  rooms  is  still 
a  mystery  to  ourselves.  Shortly  after,  we  sought  to  find 
a  book  wherein  to  register  our  names  ;  presently  a  tall 
slim  man,  slipshod,  and  in  rather  shabby  deshabille 
walked  through  the  entry,  and  saluted  us,  or  rather  we 
hailed  him,  saying,  "  Do  you  keep  this  hotel  ?"  to  which 
he  answered,  "Ya  I"  We  replied  :  "You'll  find  us  the 
very  best  friends  in  the  world,  and  we'll  be  treated  as  if 
you  had  known  us  all  your  life."  On  going  up  stairs 
the  uncarpeted  floor,  wearing  the  last  stages  of  con- 
sumption, struck  our  attention;  passing  along  the  entry, 
an  apparition  floated  beyond  the  gallery  by  the  stairs  ; 
this  turned  out  to  be  the  amiable  Irish  housekeeper  of 
the  establishment,  a  dumpy,  rosy-faced,  and  fair,  fat, 
and  forty  young  woman,  who  attended  to  things  gen- 
erally. We  were  led  into  certain  small  and  narrow  little 
alcoves,  misnamed  bedrooms.  We  looked  out  of  the  win- 
dows of  the  gallery  into  the  court-yard  beneath;  a  shabby 
basin  for  a  fountain,  with  no  water  in  it,  stood  in  the  mid- 
dle of  the  court-yard  ;  beyond  was  a  veranda  overlooking 
a  stone  wall,  pitched  two  hundred  feet  above  the  river, 
,,hat  river  was  nowhere  in  sight,  and  the  whole  prospect 
vas  gloomy,  arid  foreboded  nothing  of  good  omen, 
/hambermaids  were  rushing  around  ;  no  water  was  to  be 


33 

had  for  washing1  ;  towels  were  very  scarce,  arid  very 
poor  at  that.  Wo  remained  in  these  wretched  cabins 
numbered,  respectively,  Nos.  61  and  G3,  and  rested  that 
night  to  dream  only  about  our  boots  standing  before  the 
church  door,  and  of  a  Dutch  angel  playing  an  impossi- 
ble tune  on  the  organ  near  the  south  transept.  We 
couldn't  stand  such  another  night's  roosting  on  the 
upper  branches  of  this  man's  appletrees,  and  on  the 
morrow  moved  down  stairs,  where  we  remained,  and 
beating  up  recruits  at  the  breakfast  table,  got  hold  ot 
the  waiter-girls  and  partook  of  a  scanty  meal,  after  which 
we  looked  around  at  our  position,  and  commenced  form- 
ing a  circle  of  acquaintances  to  bolster  up  our  misfor- 
tunes. 

Not  many  days  elapsed  before  we  were  feeling 
more  at  home,  and  in  the  society  of  several  friends, 
sr,me  of  whom  we  had  met  at  Stowe,  we  managed  to 
spend  a  very  delightful  time  at  this  notable  village,  the 
last  and  best,  as  far  as  the  enjoyment  was  concerned, 
and  the  ultima  thule  of  our  summer  trip.  How  can  we 
describe  the  beauties  of  the  vicinity  of  Brattlcboro?  how 
well  portray  the  rich  verdure  of  its  scenery  ?  What  a 
sweet  prospect  yields  to  your  admiration  of  that  beau- 
tiful bend  in  the  valley  of  the  Connecticut,  which  is 
presented  to  your  vision  as  you  look  out  from  the  grave- 
yard, or  the  cemetery,  which  affords  such  pleasant  walks 
on  a  Sunday  evening  !  And  then  the  rides  about  the 
town.  That  to  West  Brattleboro',  where  the  girls  ex- 
hibited  their  bloomer  costumes  in  their  exercises  on 
Friday  afternoon  ;  and  of  course  the  young  gentlemen 
go  there  to  admire  their  calisthenic  drill  in  short 
bloomers.  What  beauties  line  the  shores  as  you  driv</ 
2* 


34 

down  to  Hinsdalc  ;  how  glorious  the  drivo  which  leads 
you  over  Chesterfield  Mountains  and  back,  when  you 
view  the  grand  panorama  of  the  distant  hills  as  the 
sunset  gilds  the  mountain-tops,  and  thence  descend- 
ing by  the  gorge  and  ravines  which  cross  your 
path  by  the  side  of  the  gulf  road  ;  and  what  delights 
are  spread  at  your  vision  of  the  Bliss  farm,  or  at  the 
new  turn  from  that,  over  the  hills,  and  back  to  town  as 
you  wade  across  the  West  river  I  No  less  than  forty 
different  rides  and  drives  over  this  charming  country 
are  among  its  varied  attractions.  What  can  we  say  of 
the  pleasant  little  village  church,  the  beautiful  little 
lady's  church.  Episcopal,  so  snugly  located  near  the 
banks  of  the  river,  where  by  soft  moonlight  you  may 
seat  yourself  and  dream  of  Paradise,  and  of  the  pros- 
pects waiting  for  us  on  the  golden  shores  of  heaven  : 

"  Old  friends,  old  scenes,  familiar  grow 
As  more  of  heaven  in  each  we  see  : 
Some  softening  gleams  of  love  and  prayer, 
Shall  dawn  on  every  cross  and  care. 

"  GEORGE  HERBERT." 

Since  such  charming  pleasure  cannot  be  too  often 
repeated,  as  "  a  thing  of  beauty  is  a  joy  forever,"  we 
recur  to  that  charming  drive  wherein  the  reins  were 
held  by  tho  charming  Laura — not  Petrarch's.  There 
were  three  couples  that  had  started  together  on  the 
bright  afternoon  of  the  last  of  September.  Hinsdale 
was  again  visited,  but  under  different  circumstances  of 
light  and  shade,  and  the  charms  of  sweet  communion 
with  a  lovely  belle  of  the  Quaker  city  led  us  to  dream  of 
fairy  land  as  wo  passed  over  hill  and  dale,  and  lingering 


35 

until  twilight  fell  over  the  landscape,  the  stars  shone 
out  so  brightly  in  the  clear  blue  canopy  of  the  heavens 
above,  where  bright  Venus  then  beamed,  shone  alone  as 
the  Queen  of  Light,  amid  the  starry  constellations  and 
clusters  of  golden  jewels — she  singing — 

"  Star  light, 
Star  bright, 

The  first  star  I  have  seen  to-night  ; 
I  wish  I  may, 
I  wish  I  might, 
Have  the  wish  I  have  wished  to-night." 

And  so  we  rode  on  in  a  happy  mood,  repeating  : 

"  I  see  a  star, 
And  the  star  sees  me, — 
And  the  star  sees  somebody 
I  would  like  to  see." 

It  was  another  pearl  of  thought  from  the  angel  beside 
me.  Amid  all  this  gush  of  joy  and  happiness,  gross 
darkness  covered  the  land,  and  it  was  quite  late  in  the 
evening  when  we  landed  at  the  summer  home  of  Per- 
ham's  mansion,  on  the  common. 

That  evening  there  was  a  German  at  the  hotel  ;  gal- 
lant soldiers  moved  under  the  enchantment  of  soft  music, 
and  all  went  happily  as  a  marriage-bell.  Those  who 
know  this  dance,  with  all  its  rapturous  and  varied  turns 
and  never-ending  evolutions,  will  spare  us  the  necessity 
of  further  description.  The  next  evening  was  beguiled 
away  by  an  exhibition  of  phantom  shadows,  under  the 
able  direction  of  Professor  Hernbrun,  "  with  a  display 
of  wonderful  dentistry  and  tooth-drawing  ;"  with  tight, 
rope  performance,  not  to  be  surpassed  by  oven  Blondin 


36 

himself,  or  Dr.  Evans,  of  Paris,  and  only  to  be  appre 
ciated  by  those  have  been  abroad  and  understand  the 
mysteries  of  the  German  metaphysicians  ;  you  ma^ 
judge  that  there  was  plenty  to  amuse  us  while  here.  Wo 
had  omitted  to  state  that  one  of  the  most  agreeable  rides 
was  that  by  the  way  of  the  East  river  and  round  through 
a  thickly  wooded  bridle-path  to  GooddelPs  farm,  besides 
other  drives  to  Chesterfield  Lake,  over  Norcross  Ferry, 
Slab  Hollow,  Broad  Brook,  and  Leyden's  Glen,  and  a 
point  of  view,  the  most  interesting  of  all,  at  the  extreme 
edge  of  the  Barracks,  where  there  can  be  seen  one  of 
the  finest  landscapes  in  or  about  the  region  of  Brattle- 
boro',  on  the  line  of  the  Connecticut  river. 

Thus  ended  our  summer  days  at  Stowe,  and  through- 
out the  range  of  Vermont  Hills  there  was  nothing  to  mar 
the  whole  course  of  our  journey.  Any  one  who  has 
been  at  Brattleboro'  need  not  our  measure  of  praise  to 
herald  its  delights. 

The  merits  of  Manchester  are  limited  by  her  marble 
quarries  and  fine  rango  of  pasture  land,  the  river  Bat- 
tenkill,  and  the  Equinox  Mountain.  It  is  a  very  pleas- 
ant and  a  healthy  village.  But  of  all  the  places  that 
we  visited,  our  memories  linger  around  the  realms  of 
Stowe.  We  heard  of  it  before  we  became  acquainted 
with  its  beauties  ;  the  sound  of  the  Indian  name  of  its 
rivers,  "  The  Winooski,"  or  "  The  Wanouski,"  the 
Watumpsic,  ar.d  its  rapids,  still  lingers  in  our  ears. 
The  pleasant  rides,  the  artist's  dreamland,  its  noble 
mountain,  its  glens  and  notches,  its  boulder-rocks,  its 
coy  and  hidden  waterfalls,  its  scenery  and  picturesque 
valleys,  and  its  inviting  hostelry,  which  is  a  palace  in 
its  construction,  affording  comfort  to  its  guests  and  its 


37 

seclusion,  by  ton  miles  or  more  from  the  line  of  any  rail 
road,  render  the  village  of  Stowe  worthy  the  name  of 
"  The  Gem  of  the  Green  Mountains/'  and  we  close  with 
this  invitation,  "  Go  and  see  it"  and,  if  not  satisfied, 
settle  down  with  this  prescription  of  Murray,  fur  your 
comforter,  in  Italy.  "Vedi  Napoli,  epoi  mori" 


FOREIGN     IMPUTATIONS. 


In  passing  along  Broadway  numerous  signs  attract 
your  attention  and  you  read  the  following  :  "  Hotel  kept 
on  the  European  Plan."  When  shall  we  get  away  from 
this  foreign  influence  which  is  daily  absorbing  the 
virtue  of  the  American  character  ?  Why  not,  if  we 
must  have  foreign  importations,  do  the  best  thing  to  be 
done  at  once — that  is  to  import  the  foreigner  in  propria 
persona,  and  thereby  get  the  whole  benefit  of  this  strange 
animal,  with  his  soul,  strength,  and  spirit,  so  as  to 
swallow  him  whole  ? 

It  is  very  evident  that  the  ruin  which  has  followed  in 
consequence  of  this  national  caprice  needs  iio  further 
remark  to  confirm  our  statement  ;  and  it  is  only  by  cast- 
ing shadows  that  we  can  see  these  matters  in  a  new 
light,  so  as  to  remedy  the  evil. 

The  story  of  the  reception  of  one  of  our  missionaries 
among  the  Sandwich  Islands  (where,  by  the  way,  the 
true  meaning  of  the  word  "  sandwich  "  may  be  clearly 
exhibited  in  the  result  of  a  queer  miscegenation), 
was  narrated  to  a  soa  captain  who  had  subsequently 
visited  those  islands,  after  the  death  of  the  missionary. 
The  captain  inquired  of  a  chief  whether  he  rccoi- 


38 

lectcd  an  individual  who  had  been  sent  out  a  few  years 
previously,  to  christianize  his  subjects,  and  what  ho 
thought  of  the  results  of  their  pious  endeavors.'7  The 
chief  hesitated  a  little  to  recall  the  identity  of  the  gen- 
tleman alluded  to,  and,  after  shrugging  his  shoulders, 
with  a  humph,  replied  :  "  Him  me  recollect  ;  him  very 
goot  man  ;  me  eat  him  /  but  him  was  werry  tuff.r  Not 
very  different  is  the  handling  of  the  foreign  mattei  which 
is  quietly  introduced  by  our  wily  politicians  to  ingraft 
a  new  stock  on  the  body  politic,  and  who,  after  handling 
these  subjects,  come  to  grief  over  such  an  importation 
of  foreign  ingredients  that  they  themselves  are  choked 
up  by  the  gnats  which  they  have  swallowed,  but  have 
not  strained  under  the  burden  of  the  camels  which  they 
had  transported. 

We  ourselves  are,  and  ever  have  been,  American  at 
heart.  The  United  States  are  but  a  bundle  of  fagots 
bound  together  by  a  cord  of  union  ;  they  will  stand 
when  all  other  nations  perish.  The  union  of  hearts  is 
the  union  of  all  the  States,  matrimonial  or  otherwise. 
If  such  financiers  as  Mr.  Chase,  Mr.  Fessenden,  and  Mr. 
McCullough  had  been  born  and  bred  in  England,  they 
could  not  have  devised  any  possible  scheme  by  which 
to  embarrass  the  wheels  of  commerce,  American  manu- 
factures, and  the  farming  interest  of  this  country,  so 
anti-republican,  so  anti-democratic  as  that  abominable 
piece  of  treason  by  which  they  have  sold  us  to  the  Eng- 
lish bondholders,  and  thrust  upon  us  a  distracted  gold 
currency,  which  has  not  even  the  faculty  of  running 
down  hill,  even  after  a  shove  from  the  Jews,  the  Shy* 
locks,  and  the  brokers  on  the  Wall  street  corners. 


39 


The  soldier  is  home  from  the  war, 
Now  returned  from  the  battles  afar ; 
Let  us  welcome  the  boys  and  the  tar, 
With  our  hip !  hip !  hip  1  and  hurrah  I 

Fair  Peace,  like  an  angel,  has  spread 
Iler  soft  wings  o'er  the  fields  of  the  dead, 
And,  with  hosts  of  archangels,  rejoicing  above, 
Praise  GOD,  the  Great  Fountain  of  Love. 

Let  all  hearts  glow  with  gladness  and  pride, 
While  the  Church  doth  rejoice  as  a  bride; 
O'er  the  plains  where  the  war-horse  has  trod, 
The  foot-prints  of  JESUS  stamp  the  imago  of  GOD. 

The  fierce  din  of  cannon  no  longer  is  heard, 
Sweet  violets  are  blooming  near  the  low-bleating  lieu1, 
And  the  birds  are  now  singing  their  song  to  the  blest, 
No  longer  affrighted  from  their  soft,  downy  nests. 

Where  the  red  blood  once  sprinkled  the  face  of  the  soil 
These  offsprings  of  martyrs  have  implanted  their  toil, 
In  the  bosom  of  nature,  in  hopes  of  reward 
From  the  Goddess  of  Liberty — a  glorious  award. 

Thus  ever  in  Providence,  Faith  and  Repose 

Are  but  blossoms  of  Virtue  which  blush  as  the  rose, 

And  our  broils  are  but  thorns  which  through  suffering  arise* 

TJ*at  are  pointed  from  Heaven  to  project  to  the  skies. 


40 


ON 

OT    A    G&AS8    YASE. 


Sweet  flowers!  so  like  the  smiles  from  heaven, 
To  brightoit  ;tL  vir  hours  of  toil, 

Wherefrom  the  reapers  gather  leaven, 
Resting  whilom  from  mid-day  broil. 

flow  well  they  ease  the  burthened  heart, 

Too  often  wet  with  briny  tears, 
Quite  comforting:  where  all  was  smart, 

The  pains  which  blight  and  sorrow  rears. 

How  joyfully  ye  kiss  the  dews 

That  bathe  your  soft  and  lovely  skin. 

While  rainbow  prisms  vie  in  hues, 
To  paint  your  glory,  without  stint. 

Ye  blooming  children  from  the  skies, 
Earth-born,  yet  bursting  out  in  praise  ; 

In  grateful  incense  ye  do  rise, 

To  honor  love,  and  joy,  and  grace. 

How  gladly,  then,  we  view  these  flowers, 
So  *»iugly  nestled  in  a  vase  of  glass, 

The  fairest  imago  of  the  passing  hours, 
Too  soon  to  break  and  fade  away,  alas  I 


41 


OF 


There  were  three  sisters,  to  my  memory  dear  — 

Not  long  ago  they  lived  across  the  river  ; 
These  changed  their  names  —  not,  I  deem,  from  fear, 

But  as  the  arrow's  shot,  when  drawn  from  the  quiver. 

There  are  three  others  whom  I  chanced  to  know, 

Among  the  Graces  of  this  modern  city, 
Who  have  not  merely  spent  their  lives  for  show, 

So  modest  are  they,  hut  keen  to  claims  for  pity. 

The  first  of  these,  not  rated  as  a  beanty, 
But  well  disposed  toward  the  meek  and  poor, 

Always  contented  to  perform  her  duty, 
Nor  to  the  homeless  ever  shuts  her  door. 

Unselfish,  wise,  and  ever  well  intended, 

Her  heart  inclines  her  well  to  answer  every  call  • 

No  beggar  ever  quits  her  empty-handed  — 

E'en  were  she  once  in  quest  of  gayei>fc'  «ind  ball. 

The  second,  beauty  had  —  a  form  like  Venus, 
In  height  the  Medici,  figure  lithe  and  light  ; 

Well  versed  in  poetry  and  every  art  amcenous, 
And  with  a  spirit  which  yields  us  all  delight. 

The  third,  brunette,  a  connoisseur  and  good, 
Gifted  in  drawing  from  the  life  and  cast  — 

Has  a  sweet  friend  who  boasts  of  Indian  blood; 
Both,  in  their  studio,  glory  in  the  past. 

Despite  the  difference  in  their  various  style, 

Their  very  contrasts  lead  to  happy  unity  ; 
Thus  beauty,  use,  and  taste  beguile 

Their  hours,  well  spent  in  love  and  holy  unity. 

The  dual  Miree  are  here  Earth's  witnesses  of  Heaven, 
The  double  manifest  of  the  blessed  Trinity: 

Faith,  Hope,  and  Charity,  with  Love,  are  leaven  — 
God,  and  His  Son,  and  Holy  Spirit,  are  Divinity. 

MOKA.L. 
The  happy  dual  of  the  married  state  is  perfect  Love  — 

And  not  less  blessed  when  the  heart  is  single  ; 
The  Spirit,  water,  and  the  blood  are  shadows  from  above, 
And  where  Christ's  Spirit  dwells,  heaven  and   earth 
commingle. 


42 


THE   TOMB    OF   THE  MARTYRS. 


AT   W  ALLABO  UT. 


What  hallowed  associations  are  connected  with  the 
(sound  of  martyrdom  I  The  heart  of  the  patriot,  the  lover 
of  his  country,  the  true  American,  the  honest  man,  and 
the  sincere  Christian,  swells  with  emotions  too  deep  for 
utterance.  Great  thoughts  of  heart  arise  in  the  bosom 
of  all  brave  men,  and  noble  women  weep  over  the 
memories  of  the  sacred  dead  : 

"  Dulce  et  decore  est  pro  patria  mori." 

Adjoining  the  United  States  Navy  Yard  in  Brooklyn 
city,  in  Jackson  street,  may  be  seen,  in  a  dilapidated 
condition,  the  tomb  of  the  martyrs  who  died  in  dungeons 
arid  pestilential  prison-ships,  in  and  about  the  city  of 
New  York,  during  the  seven  years  of  our  Revolutionary 


What  a  disgrace  to  their  living  descendants,  that  the 
oniy  monument  that  was  ever  erected  to  their  memory 
should  be  suffered  to  remain  in  the  sad  and  sorry  plight 
•u  which  it  appears  to-day  ! 

It  is  high  time  that  Brooklyn  should  wake  up  to  $> 
proper  sense  of  their  neglect  of  these  departed  worthies, 
and  take  the  matter  in  hand,  and  rear  a  monument  in 
some  conspicuous  spot,  worthy  of  themselves,  and  which 
the  children  of  future  generations  might  visit,  in  order  to 
keep  alive  and  fresh  their  pride  and  honor  for  such 


43 

patriotic  exemplars.  It  would  be  a  grand  idea  to  mingle 
the  bones  of  these  heroes  of  the  Revolution  with  those 
of  the  illustrious  dead  who  have  lately  fought,  bled,  and 
died  in  our  recent  conflict  against  this  last  dsvilish 
Rebellion.  Where  rests  your  sense  of  shame,  ye  incor-' 
porators  of  Kings  ?  Why  have  these  ashes  of  your 
patriotic  ancestors  to  be  sanctified  only  by  the  colonists 
of  New  England  ;  and  why  should  the  sapient  wisdom  of 
New  Connecticut  be  called  upon  alone  to  place  a  statue 
over  the  buried  martyrs  in  their  vault  and  mouldering 
coffins  at  the  purlieus  of  Wallabout  ?  Why  leave  it  to  old 
Benjamin  Romaine  solely,  as  a  monnment  to  his  undying 
love  and  patriotism,  and  utter  detestation  of  English 
impudence,  to  devise  his  body  to  the  lot,  in  which  these 
patriots  have  to  inherit  only  their  own  bones,  or  to 
crown  his  pure  devotion  in  a  coronet  of  glory,  which 
only  exhibits  thereon  dark  shadows  in  a  strong  contrast 
to  the  grim  indifference  of  these  Moabites  of  Long 
Island  ?  Let  the  government  lay  hold  of  this  matter,  and 
sink  their  disgrace  in  a  noble  tribute  to  the  memory  of 
these  glorious  ancestors  of  our  Independence  !  If  they  fail 
to  do  their  duty,  let  us  of  Manhattan  shame  our  neighbors 
on  the  other  side  of  the  East  river  into  the  doing  of  the 
correct  thing  in  the  present  necessity.  If  these  fail,  let 
the  spirit  of  the  old  Constitution  itself,  "  that  undying 
and  perpetual  charter  of  human  rights,  and  of  our  duties 
to  God  and  man/'  rise  up  like  the  bones  of  Elisha,  which 
stood  Tip  on  their  feet  at  the  indignant  outrage  of  that 
band  of  wandering  invaders,  who,  while  casting  only  a 
very  c-J-mmon  man's  corpse  into  the  sepulchre  of  this 
venerable  saint  and  prophet  of  old,  plead  that  the  dry 
fcones  of  these  modern  vandals  might  shake  in  frightful 


44 

apprehension  of  that  irrepressible  disgrace  and  con- 
tumely with  which  posterity  will  visit  them  for  their 
shameful  neglect,  and  their  remissful  memories  of  the 
past  heroes  of  the  Revolution,  when  it  comes  their  turn 
to  be  buried  in  vaults,  and  their  ashes  to  be  blown  to 
the  winds  in  a  tempest  of  tornadoos  and  tea-table  talk 
and  reproach.  Verily,  the  ashes  of  those  dead  patriots 
are  the  embryo  of  the  resurrection  of  our  country  ;  and 
we  cannot  better  consecrate  the  ground  where  these 
martyrs  of  the  dust  are  buried  so  well  as  by  raising 
altars  in  the  present  on  which  the  living  may  offer  such 
a  savor  of  sweet  incense  as  shall  yield  that  consolation 
and  comfort  of  holy  sacrifice,  of  thanksgiving,  glory,  and 
praise,  to  heal  the  broken  hearts  of  the  widows  and  the 
orphans,  whose  sorrows  and  wounds  would  be  only 
freshly  opened,  but  for  the  recollection  that  the  heroes 
of  the  Revolution,  and  the  honorable  dead,  brought  forth 
upon  this  continent  a  new  nation,  which  was  conceived 
for  the  enjoyment  of  a  greater  liberty  for  all  mankind, 
which  shall  survive  the  wreck  of  empire  and  the  fall  ol 
kings,  and  shall  endure  only  so  long  as  we  who  are 
alive  shall  honor  their  memories  within  the  land  which 
the  Lord  our  God  has  given  us:  It  is  but  meet  that  we 
dedicate  a  portion  of  our  soil  as  the  final  resting-place 
of  those  who  gave  their  lives  that  this  nation  might  live 
forever.  "  Requiescant  in  pace"  Let  us  fin  ^p  the 
measure  of  their  devotion.  Amen. 


45 


I  hope 
I  have  not  lost  thoo,  Mary, 

I'm  only  thrust  one  side. 
I  had  no  prurient  fantasy 

To  sue  thee  as  my  hride. 

'Twas  a  spirit  that  misled  me, 
As  thou  knelt  in  silent  prayer, 

That  an  angel  had  descended 
Through  the  dim,  religious  air. 

I  was  thinking  of  that  Mary 
"Whom  Jesus  loved  as  friend, 

When  sister  Martha  was  so  gary, 
And  wouldn't  stay  to  mend. 

Thy  dreamy  gaze  involved  me, 
As  I  was  passing  down  the  aisle, 

And  its  magic  so  dissolved  me, 
That  it  made  St.  Cle  smile. 

On  a  raining  Sunday  morning, 
As  I  sauntered  in  to  prayers, 

A  messenger  in  sackcloth,  mourning, 
Whispered  slily  in  my  ears  : 

""Would  you  like  to  know  Miss  Leameyf 
-  "Faith,"  says  I,  "I  dinna  care," 
It  rather  made  me  dreamy 
With  my  usual  debonaire. 

Then  reflecting  on  the  matter ; 

For  she  looked  so  very  sweet; 
How  the  deuce  was  I  to  get  at  her, 

And  contrive  how  we  might  meet. 


46 

Thus  tempted  with  heard  praises 

Of  her  arts  and  skill  in  look — 
For  you  know  I  love  the  Graces — 

I  discharged  at  her  a  book ; 

That  was  penned  by  Mistress  Adams, 

Not  she  for  poor  Adam's  ail, 
The  father  of  all  those  little  damms 

That  have  made  our  race  so  pale — 

Which,  projected  at  my  lassie, 

The  subject  of  these  verses, 
Came  back  like  coach,  with  glasses, 

Which  follows  solemn  hearses. 

I'm  right  sorry  for  the  authoress, 

I  thought  only  for  her  good — 
Case  did  not  suit  the  doctorcss  ; 

She  needed  better  food. 

But  spring  ca*"^  on  with  its  verdure, 

With  its  shiviing  coat  of  green, 
And  Astarte  sent  some  flowers, 

The  rarest  to  be  seen. 

And  the  patient  had  recovered 
From  the  offerings  and  the  book, 

But  relapses  were  discovered, 
And  of  a  serious  turn  partook. 

'Twas  an  admiration  offering  only ; 

What's  the  harm  in  such  a  thing? — 
When  the  subject  is  a  lady, 

And  cat  may  look  at  king. 

MORAL : 

"  Drink  water  out  of  your  own  cisterns  and  running  water  out 

of  your  own  wells." 
"  Cast  thy  bread  upon  the  waters,  and  it  shall  return  to  thee 

after  un^oy  days." 


47 


Friend,  hast  them  ever  been  at  Bloomingdale  ? 

And  ridden  in  the  Stages  which  ran  in  time  of  Moore, 
And  split  your  side  in  such  a  boisterous  gale, 

That  you  did  cry,  because  you  could  laugh  no  more. 

Now,  since  that,  from  the  days  of  Lutz  &  Doll  to  this, 
Have  Babies  filled  the  Baskets  held  by  simple  Nurses ; 

There's  been  no  change  towards  bettering  human  bliss, 
Although  one  Churchill  runs  the  Stage  o'er  hillside  or  by 
Churches. 

E'er  first  appeared  Baby,  a  Basket  foretold  its  ominous  presence ; 

Only  to  type  the  Cradle  by  which  it  was  to  be  rocked  asleep, 
And  when  Mam  Dobson  weighed  the  little  dear  omnipotence, 

'Twas  but  the  balance  of  the  first  stage  from  which  it  was  to 
peep. 

And  ever  since  times  of  Adam,  when  Baby  took  his  ticket  of 

Leave, 

There's  been  no  respite  from  the  various  modes  of  travel, 
The  Man  or  Woman,  Boy  or  Girl,  have  had  no  sure  reprieve, 
Whether  the  road  they  cabbed  o'er  was  dirt  road,  sand,  or 
gravel. 

The  History  of  Manhattan  hath  a  page  so  ample,  that  no  book 
Of  Travel  ever  shook  the  sides  of  any  passenger  through  life, 

As  the  encounters  in  that  horrible  stage,  we  fellow  sufferers  took, 
Where  vre  were  fumbled,  jumbled,  tumbled,  as  if  'twere  in 
battle  strife. 

Now  we  all  remember  Father  Hardinge,  with  his  huge  cravat 

so  high, 
Through  which  he  shook  his  horse-laugh  until  he  made  us 

snicker ; 
And  how  Jane  Tompson  grumbled,  as  the  children  set  up  their 

cry, 

The  rumbling  wagon  groaned  more  shaky,  and  the  clouds  of 
dust  grew  thicker. 

'Tis   ever  thus   from  childhood's  hour,  all   our  lives  we   are 

dragged  along, 

E'en  from  the  day  the  infant  left  the  arms  of  puling  nurse, 
Up  to  the  day  when  old  age  sighs  and  weeps  o'er  days  long  gone, 
Until  the  last  s id  hour  when  "  M^rs  est,  Omnibus"  changes 
into  Hearse. 


48 


A 


A  lady  and  a  lassie  and  a  lad, 

On  a  smiling  July  day, 
Stepped  out  of  the  cars  into  Central  Park, 

There  happily  to  spend  the  day. 

It  was  the  first  time  in  his  life 

That  the  lad  had  seen  the  Ramble, 
For  he  was  led  there  like  a  little  sheep, 

That  had  only  just  learned  to  gamhol. 

And  ever  as  from  little  things  a  lesson  we  may  learn, 
And  from  a  small  spark  a  great  big  fire  may  rise, 

So  it  often  seems  that  as  troubled  heart  may  burn, 
Should  mortal  from  sepulchral  earth  be  lifted  to  the  skios. 

Now  we  will  change  the  age  of  him  we  called  the  lad, 
For  men  are  but  children  first,  but  babes  in  later  days, 

And  speaking  boldly  say  'twas  a  young  man,  be  gad ! 
Who  was  the  first  sad  subject  of  these  sorry  lays. 

It  matters  not  even  if  a  Red  Rose  of  Lancaster 

Went  with  our  party,  she  of  maturer  age, 
As  if  one  Pollox  strayed  away  with  Castor, 

'Twas  all  the  worse  for  this  little  gentle  page. 

Nor  makes  it  better  that  a  white  Rose  of  York. 

So  sweetly  smiled  upon  this  youth  forlorn, 
For  what's  a  smelling-bottle  without  its  cork, 

Or  what  avails  a  valley  without  ripened  corn  t 

Secundo,  we  will  change  the  nature  of  our  metre — 
The  day  itself  was  changeable,  as  all  fine  weather  is— 

To  ask  the  Muse  to  try  a  new  gasometer, 
To  let  our  gas  off  with  a  double  whiz. 


49 

On  a  bright  summer  morning  in  the  middle  of  July,  the  day 
As  I  was  passing  o'er  the  road,  'twas  the  20th  of  July. 

The  sun  was  flirting  with  the  clouds  like  hide-and-seek  in  play, 
"When  whom  did  I  chance  to  meet  but  the  idol  of  my  eye. 

Twas  very  naughty  of  me,  as  you  may  well  suppose, 
That  such  a  man  of  business  should  be  stopping  b*  the  way, 

To  cull  a  sweet  white  lily  that  was  nestled  n^ar  a  Rc*3, 
Or  to  spend  an  hour  by  the  fountain  as  it  was  dallying  ia  its 
play. 

The  little  golden  diamonds  that  it  scattered  in  the  ligH 
Spread  in  starry  shadows  as  it  sparkled  to  the  sun, 

A!id  my  happy  thoughts  like  violets  bursting  the  night 
Of  nursing  mother  earth,  so  inspired  me  I  could  not  ran. 

We  know  the  golden  hours  which  were  running  like  a  stream, 
Though  spent  in  sweet  communion  would  ne'er  return  again 

But  th  A^ountain  and  the  flowers  were  weaving  a  sweet  theme, 
Had  been  painted  by  the  angels  on  Nature's  wide  domain. 

It  was  of  a  stolen  flower,  that  was  pitcher-like  in  form, 
As  it  floated  from  its  pendant,  very  like  an  ear-ring, 

That  out   yould  have  hardly  thought  of  any  harm, 
Or  that  there  was  aught  of  wrong  in  such  a  little  thing. 

But  there  ever  was  in  stolen  fruit  a  deal  of  mischief  lurking, 
Even  as  where,  in  old  Romaint,  a  maiden  was  stolen  away 
From  her  ralher's  castellated  halls,   when  gallant  knight  went 

burkmg 

And  casting  but  a  cloak  around  her,  in  his  bark  sped  through 
the  spray. 

There  never  was  since  time  of  Eve,  when  Adam  was  away, 

But  some  de'il  was  there,  to  whisper  slylj  in  tho  ear 
There's  something  good  in  stealing,  not,  but  there's  ';he  cbvtf  to 

pay* 

And  no  ha™n  that  any  ill  will  happen  then  to  fcur. 
3 


50 

Now  what  shall  bo  said  when  in  another  older  say  ing 
You  read  that  one  cannot  teach  an  old  dog  new  tricks, 

For  even  the  elder  lady  pulled  a  sprig  of  jessamine,  laying 
Not  far  from  where  a  party  sat  on  a  bench  of  rustic  sticks. 

"'Twas  ever  thus,  from  childhood's  hour, 
I've  seen  my  fondest  hopes  decay  ; 

I  never  loved  a  tree  or  flower, 

But  'twas  the  first  to  fade  away. 

"—TOM  MOOBE." 

Another  poet,  not  so  well  read  in  verse, 

Doth  now  conclude  this  model  prosaidy 
By,  never  do  write  from  railroad  car,  nor  disperse 

Your  thoughts  from  office  calls — even  for  a  lady. 


MORAL. 

Old  Benjamin  Franklin,  so  wise  in  his  days, 
Was  given  to  verses,  but  never  to  lays — 
'Twero  a  pity  the  moderns  don't  mind  what  he  says, 
If  they  did,  'twould  be  surely  more  to  their  praise. 

Take  care  of  the  shop,  and  the  shop  will  care  for  you ; 
Always  button  your  coat,  and  fasten  your  shoes, 
And  then  some  fair  lady  will  seek  for  a  friend 
Who'll  be  true  with  her  lover  to  life's  bitter  end. 


61 


COLONEL  O'BRIAN; 

OR, 

THE  SOLDIER  OF  FORTUNE. 

BY   ONE   WHO   KNEW   HIM. 

Seize  upon  truth  where'er  'tis  found ; 

Among  your  friends,  among  your  foes, 
On  Christian  or  on  heathen  ground  ; 

The  flower  's  divine  where'er  it  grows  ; 

Refuse  the  prickle  and  assume  the  rose. 

Fitz  O'Brian,  of  Irish  descent,  was  a  soldier  of  for- 
tune, who,  during  the  wars  on  the  Spanish  main,  was 
engaged  by  the  South  Americans  in  waging  war  against 
tne  rebels  of  that  country.  Noble,  generous,  and  brave, 
with  a  courage  as  indomitable  as  the  lion,  without  fear 
and  without  reproach,  he  endeared  himself  to  our  coun- 
trymen, because  he  was  a  patriot  and  a  true  friend  of 
all  inclined  to  universal  liberty. 

He  led  the  armies  of  the  noble  republics  of  that  south- 
ern land  or  continent,  overcame  the  enemies  of  the  gov- 
ernment, and  after  a  successful  campaign,  which  ended 
in  putting  all  the  revolutionists  to  flight,  laid  down  his 
arms  to  settle  down  in  glorious  peace. 

The  government  would  have  covered  him  with  all  the 
honors  due  to  such  braves,  and  they  did  indeed  invest 
him  with  those  paltry  trinkets  of  gilt  medals,  and  the 
flaming  insignia  of  titles  covered  him  with  an  embla- 
zonry of  gold  lace,  but  could  not  hide  his  merit  or  his 


52 

virtues.  He  refused  all  compensation  for  his  services, 
and  spent  all  his  patrimony  of  English  gold  freely  as 
water,  or  as  his  own  caprices'suited.  He  was  a  gallant, 
bold,  reckless,  and  chivalrous  man.  Like  Don  Quixote, 
he  fought  for  the  love  of  it.  The  gayest  of  soldiers,  a 
true-hearted,  rollicking,  rioting,  frolicking  Irishman, 
and  as  true  to  his  honor  as  the  dial  to  the  sun. 

I  knew  him  well.  I  loved  his  hearty,  free,  rough-and- 
ready  manner.  There  was  a  sparkle  in  his  eyes  and 
sunshine  in  his  laughter.  He  displayed  his  fun  at  all 
times,  and  was  as  eccentric  as  he  was  bold,  and  gifted  as 
he  was  gay. 

Among  his  prospects,  for  he  was  somewhat  of  a  specu- 
lative character,  was  his  interest  in  a  valuable  silvci 
mine,  hid  in  the  heart  of  the  Andes,  or  it  matters  not 
where — say  some  part  of  Peru.  This  he  offered  to  a 
friend  for  tho  privilege  of  working  it,  simply  on  the  con- 
dition that  he  should  pay  all  his  debts,  amounting  to 
only  about  $15,000,  a  mere  trifle,  and  a  cheap  bargain 
for  a  mine  which  has  yielded  over  $5,000,000  per  an- 
num. 

The  only  risk  attending  the  purchase  would  be,  per- 
haps, the  loss  of  the  man's  head  who  attempted  to  de- 
velop its  treasures,  and  the  fact  that  there  needed  a 
great  deal  of  pumping  before  the  water  could  be  drawn 
out,  which  had  been  overflowing  the  adits  for  a  number 
of  years  back. 

The  history  of  this  mine  was  rather  singular.  One 
Zalmanezer,  a  clever  old  Indian,  had  once  been  tne 
owner  of  this  property.  It  had  been  a  gift  from  tno 
empire  for  the  many  valuable  services  he  had  performed, 
but  it  was  taken  from  him  by  one  of  those  peculiar  coups 


53 

d'etats  so  common  to  despots,  and  concealed  under  the 
name  of  diplomatic  tact,  which  sometimes  compensates 
their  most  faithful  servants  by  cutting  off  their  heads. 
Tie  influence  of  this  aboriginal  was  so  great  among  his 
native  subjects  that  the  government  became  jealous  of 
him,  and  after  having  first  baited  him  with  the  offer  of  a 
fee  simple  of  this  his  paramount  estate  of  inheritance, 
accused  him  of  tampering  with  the  privities  of  royalty 
and  the  king's  domains  ;  and  although  he  proffered  a 
thousand  dollars  a  day  whilst  he  waited  his  answer  to 
an  appeal  to  the  parent  government  of  Spain,  they 
refused  his  bail  against  the  act  by  dishonorable  and 
treacherous  conduct  on  their  part  at  home,  who  conclud- 
ed that  the  best  mode  of  getting  rid  of  the  popularity 
of  this  subject  was  to  cut  off  his  head,  and  thus  control 
the  entire  right  of  possession. 

Thus  ever  republics  show  their  ingratitude.  This  is 
a  solemn  proverb  and  a  warning,  and,  like  the  farmer 
and  his  goose,  they  killed  the  bird  in  order  to  get  her 
eggs.  To  remedy  the  short-sightedness  exhibited  in  this 
picture  of  ingratitude,  the  companions  of  the  Indian  and 
his  bosom  friends,  grateful  and  reminiscent  of  his  many 
friendly  acts  among  the  neighbors,  very  ingeniously  con- 
trived to  pull  out  the  plugs  that  had  stopped  the  little 
streams  usually  gushing  out  of  the  cavities  in  all  mines 
through  the  crevices,  and  obstructing  the  proper  work- 
ing of  the  laborers,  and  thus  letting  in  a  flood  of  water, 
burst  the  sources  of  the  neighboring  lake,  and  thereby 
destroyed  the  schemes  of  the  avaricious  governor  of 
Peru,  and  thus  placed  a  barrier  to  all  future  attempts  to 
get  this  silver.  Thus  Providence  interrupts  the  course 
of  human  monsters,  and  by  a  certain  retribution  puts  a 


54 

stop  to  the  evil  as  the  beginning  complot.  Truly, 
u  man  proposes,  but  God  disposes."  "  Vengeance  is 
mine,"  saith  the  Lord.  The  poor  Indian  has  become  a 
constellation  of  silver — in  heaven — by  way  of  compen- 
sation. 

But  to  return  to  our  friend  the  Colonel.  He  had  vari- 
ous talents  beside  those  of  soldiering  and  gallant  offices. 
Not  unskillful  was  he  in  the  magic  art  of  legerdemain, 
and  he  often,  among  his  circle  of  friends  at  the  old 
" stone  arm-chair"  where  he  had  built  an  adobe  palace, 
showed  them  his  tricks  of  sleight-of-hand,  which  he  had 
learned,  while  a  youth,  at  "  Donnybrook  Fair."  Here  at 
this  altar  of  festive  repose  he  drank  many  a  bumper,  and 
amid  the  sparkle  of  the  wine  and  the  brighter  flashes  of 
his  wit  our  rollicking,  frolicking,  and  happy  Hibernian 
became  green  as  the  lizards  of  the  Old  Erin  Island  whilst 
he  rejoice  din  his  cups.  This  art  was  learned  when  he  was 
poor,  at  home,  and  went  to  the  fair  to  sharpen  his  wits  for 
something  to  spend,  like  Curran,  his  countryman,  to 
whistle  away  the  hunger.  Thus  he  lived,  and  after  hav- 
ing frolicked  and  feasted,  fought  and  played,  he  returned 
to  the  old  country  after  having  fought  an  arrant  English 
officer,  who  had  squinted  too  hard  at  one  of  his  friend's 
sweethearts  on  board  a  man-of-war,  in  the  offing,  near 
llio  Janeiro. 

The  last  we  hear  of  him  was  after  his*  return  to  Ire- 
land, where  he  had  expected  to  end  his  days.  And  in  a 
racy  letter  to  one  of  his  early  friends  on  the  main  he 
writes  :  "  We  have  been  up  to  the  Lakes  of  Killarney, 
and  it  was  nothing  but  swimming  and  hunting,  hock  and 
Champagne." 


OLD  RELICS  OF  '76. 

THE   BUSTY   CANNON  BALL,  TUB  PINCERS   AND  THE  KEY,  DUO  TIP  A? 
MCGO WAN'S  PASS,  AT  HARLEM. 


Hast  thou  ever  been  at  Deacon's, 

He  who  lives  on  Harlem  Lane, 
The  host  that  strengthens  weak  ones, 

And  gives  them  physic  for  their  pain  ? 

For  preamble  to  my  story,  'tis  well  for  us  to  explain, 
There  are  physics  for  the  body,  and  also  for  the  soul ; 
There  are  pills  that  very  complex  are,  and  others  very  plain, 
Some  taken  in  a  roll  of  bread,  and  sometimes  in  a  bowl. 

There  are  tricks  in  every  calling,  but  certes,  none  in  ours, 
For  the  doctors,  as  well  as  lawers,  must  all  a  living  make, 
Scarce  would  we  except  the  Clergy,  who  so  well  exert  their 

powers, 
For  other  people's  ailings,  and  metaphysics  take. 

There  are  Canon's  in  the  Church,  and  nippers  in  the  shop, 
As  well  as  keys  of  skeleton  shape,  which  rusty  safes  unlock, 
But  the  wonders  of  that  magic  key,  which  is  taken  in  a  drop. 
Hath  a  power  which  overshadows  human  reason  in  the  shock. 

Fain  would  we  run  a  tilt  against  the  force  of  human  reason, 
Fight  the  Doctors  of  Divinity,  or  Medicine,  or  Law, 
Lest  some  orator  from  pulpit,  or  smart  counselor,  in  treason, 
Might  upset  us  by  his  logic,  and  crack  us  in  the  jaw. 

What  boots  this  rhodomontade,  that's  so  very  far  from  point  ? 
If  the  same  were  too  protracted,  'twould  take  us  off  our  track 
From  the  place  from  which  we  started,  and  put  all  out  of 

joint,— 
So  'tis  best  to  turn  our  Pegasus,  and  lead  him  a  little  back. 


56 

There  was  a  dreadful  sound  of  cannons  when  the  Spirit  of 

Seventy-six 

Roused  the  patriots  of  Long  Island,  to  arrest  that  bloody  band 
Of  Hessians  and  Red-coats,  with  their  frightful  bayonets  fixed, 
Who  had  landed  on  our  native  soil,  from  their  poor  old  foreign 

land. 

The  heart  of  every  patriot  was  fired,  to  a  man, 
And  the  women  even  started  to  lend  a  helping  hand, 
As  the  horrid  foe  advanced  up  the  narrow  pass  McGowan, 
And  the  thundering  boom  of  English  guns  sounded  wildly  o'er 
the  strand. 

'Twas  just  where  our  noble  WASHINGTON,  well  mounted  on  his 

steed, 

Dashed  down  upon  these  rebels,  to  check  their  fierce  advance, 
And  our  gallant  little  army,  raised  up  in  time  of  need, 
Sent  these  rascals  to  the  Devil  in  a  very  hasty  dance. 

It  was  in  sight  of  Harlem  heights,  quite  near  the  Magazine, 
Which  still  is  sighted  where  Central  Park  is  walled  in, 
And  these  relics  of  our  story  were  taken  from  their  screen, 
Where  they  had  long  been  buried  deep,  some  fifteen  feet  within. 

Twas  very  natural  for  the  Deacon,  who  dwells  at  Avenue  Six, 
To  be  careful  of  these  relics  from  that  famous  battle  line, 
And  to  furnish  up  these  heavings  from  landslide  in  a  new  fix, 
To  keep  alive  our  Father's  memory,  and  for  auld  lang  syne. 

'Tis  not  true,  as  Deacon's  daughters  are  exhibited  to  fame, 
With  all  the  sons  of  ministers,  as  of  a  very  streaky  kind, 
But  the  conversion  is  quite  proper,  by  all  our  men  of  name, 
That  our  ancestors  were  gallant  men,  and  never  found  behind. 

Oft  as  we  read  in  ancient  history,  that  Herodotus  was  blind 
To  the  sacred  deeds  of  heroes,  who  had  freely  shed  their  blood; 
But  to  modern  it  is  left  to  speak  a  word  more  kind 
For  all  our  gallant  heroes,  and  of  the  buried  dead,  nothing  else 
but  good. 


57 

4 

And  as  we  viewed  these  solemn  relics  at  the  inn  at  Harlem  Lane, 
The  cannon  ball  so  rusty,  and  the  key  and  nippers  square, 
It  struck  us  most  profoundly,  that  the  hostlers  at  that  fane 
Must  have  shod  enormous  horses,  or  that  iron  was  very  rare. 

And  the  further  we  reflected,  as  we  stopped  to  drink  within, 
That  the  successor  of  these  ancients  were  not  so  far  ahead 
Of  the  worthies  of  last  century,  in  their  fondness  for  poor  gin, 
Although  the  Dutch  of  our  days  drink  lager  by  the  hogshead. 

MORAL. 

Now  the  substance  of  our  present  poem  hath  its  finale  in  a  verse, 
That  we  are  actors  all  in  tragedy,  and  comedy,  and  crime, 
And  that  our  men  and  women,  from  the  cradle  to  the  hearse, 
Are  but  types  of  the  poor  Prodigal,  but  notNazarites  of  time. 
3* 


58 


A   P8A&BK 


"  There  is  a  river,  the  streams  whereof  make  glad  the  city  of  God 
-Psalm  xlvi.,  4. 

Thus  sang  the  Psalmist  in  the  olden  time, 

To  whom  God  lent  grace  to  put  his  verse  in  rhyme; 

When  poet  sanctified  for  praise  and  song, 

Gave  glory  to  their  Lord,  the  whole  day  long. 

And  as  the  birds  sing  at  the  morning  hours, 
Raising  sweet  melodies  aloft  with  all  their  powers, 
So  did  the  son  of  Jesse  lift  his  voice  in  praise, 
And  tuned  his  harp's  string  for  eternal  lays. 

So  not  unlike  the  river,  whose  streams  make  glad 
The  cities  by  whose  walls  the  rapid  current  gleams, 
And  prospects  furnish  for  those  golden  dreams 
"Wherein  the  poets  raved  and  Troubadours  grew  sad. 

Walking  by  side  of  flowing  streams,  the  fishes  gamboling    t 

delight, 

And  gayly  sporting,  appear  to  disappear  as  in  a  dream, 
And  green  twigs  bending,  bow  to  their  ruling  might, 
While  drooping  willows  bend  in  homage  to  the  stream. 

What  are  the  rivers  flowing  but  the  means  of  grace 
God's  living  image  stamped  on  Nature's  pleasing  face ; 
The  blood  of  Jesus  and  the  Holy  Spirit  seem 
The  only  life  upon  the  bosom  of  the  silent  stream. 


59 

The  lovely  prospects  which,  by  faith,  are  throwing 
Their  shadows  from  the  substance  of  angelic  forms, 
Signs  are  of  springs,  those  welling  fountains  showing 
The  great  eternal  source  of  vernal  morns. 

The  traffic  which  the  soul  herself  doth  carry  on, 
Is  but  the  business  of  the  far-off  main, 
And  all  the  merchandise  that  is  brought  thereon 
Is  but  the  harvesting  of  the  golden  grain. 

Product  of  silver,  and  all  alloy  of  gold  refined, 
Which  by  the  Cross  is  purified  and  cleared, 
Do  but  engrave  the  imago  of  the  workman's  mind, 
And  stamp  reflections  from  His  likeness  reared. 

And  where  no  water  was,  in  dry  and  barren  field, 
What  happiness  burst  forth  from  out  the  hidden  sand, 
And  gushing  springs  from  grassy  meadows  yield 
Gardens  well  watered  by  Jehovah's  hand. 

What  rich  supplies  where  all  other  resource  fails, 
And  all  have  access  to  the  God  of  grace ; 
How  free  tho  franchise  from  old  Satan's  jails, 
When  found  security  in  the  Saviour's  face. 

These  are  the  means  which  satisfy  the  soul — 
Our  Saviour's  blood,  the  living  bread  from  heaven, 
The  Spirit's  influence,  the  body's  just  control, 
The  Gospels  freely  spread,  that  holy  leaven. 

Which  from  the  incense  of  our  hearts  are  sent 
Up  t  j  the  courts  of  heaven,  in  humble  sacrifice, 
And  lift  our  souls  upward  in  meek  ascent, 
Where  love  shall  wipe  all  tears  from  mortal  eyes. 


60 

Then  will  the  Cross  be  softened,  and  head  be  fit  for  crown, 
Here  crucified  in  sorrow,  there  will  true  joy  be  found, 
When  Jacob's  ladder  will  once  more  be  lifted  down, 
And  heaven  found  here,  where  all  is  holy  ground. 

And  if  such  sweetness  here  be  dropM  in  earthly  streams, 
Where  sins  are  pardoned,  if  by  faith  our  eyes  we  raise, 
What  must  that  fountain  be  in  those  blessed  realms, 
Where  saints  and  angels  draw  their  bliss  from  praise ; 

Where  God  himself  shall  see  us  face  to  face, 
And  Jesus  stamps  His  heirship  with  His  seal  of  love ; 
Where  happy  seraphs,  clad  in  white,  their  robes  of  grace, 
Shall  tune  their  harps,  and  sing  aloud,  above. 

Then,  brothers,  help  us — refresh  our  thirst  for  glory, 
Seek  for  thy  Saviour,  full  of  grace  and  truth, 
Trust  Him  with  all  thy  heart,  believe  this  simple  story, 
And  keep  such  childlike  faith  as  that  of  gentle  Ruth. 


61 


TRIADS  OF  THE  PAST  AND  PRESENT. 

There  were  three  brothers,  in  the  old  times  of  Rome, 
Who  from  their  mother's  fireside  were  sent  to  travel ; 

And  o'er  the  earth  were  strongly  bent  to  roam, 

While  all  the  rest  of  us  were  forced  to  stay  at  home    and 
grabble. 

As  all  men  are  naturally  savage  in  their  nature, 
And  from  the  earth  spring  forth  by  human  birth, 

'Tis  not  so  strange  that  every  mortal  creature 

Should,  before  death,  be  taxed  to  eat  his  peck  of  earth. 

And  as  in  every  soil  there  is  always  found  some  gravel, 
And  mother-earth  is  burthened  for  her  share; 

For  all  creation  groaneth  under  heavy  travail, 

No  wonder  that  her  bowels  should  be  opened  with  a  plow- 
share. 

And  as  men  grown  up  collect  themselves  in  rabbles, 
There's  some  confusion  happens  in  selection  of  fit  wives  ; 

Thus,  out  of  mixed  ideals,  oft  spring  up  family  quarrels, 
While  how  to  find  a  proper  helpmate  is  the  puzzle  of  their 
lives. 

So  when  the  Sabines  settled  in  the  neighborhood  of  Rome, 
They  were  living  very  quietly  until  Romulus  appeared  ; 

He  who  killed  his  brother  Remus  for  running  of  his  wall  down. 
'Twas  but  the  wolf  in  nature,  under  whose  nursing  he  was 
>  reared. 

Thus  ever  speaks  all  history,  that  tells  of  sorry  fight, 

That  the  weak  one  against  the  mighty  had  not  a  right  at  all, 

That  a  light  antagonist  had  no  counting  on  his  weight, 
And  in  the  conqueror's  victory  the  only  glory  is  in  his  fall. 


02 

And  as  in  every  evil  that  has  happened  under  the  sun. 

There's  a  woman  at  the  bottom  of  the  gravamen  of  trouble, 

Who  coolly  views  these  matters  as  a  pretty  piece  of  fun, 

And  weighs  the  issue  of  the  combat  as  a  child  would  blow  ? 
bubble. 

Thus,  when  the  Romans  became  tired  of  a  lonely  single  life, 
They  pitched  into  the  Sabines,  in  a  kind  of  mixed  raid, 

And  each  shouldering  a  burthen  in  the  shape  of  a  young  wife, 
Left  behind,  by  way  of  comforter,  only  the  handle  of  the  blade 

But  as  to  every  human  grief,  there's  a  way  for  consolation, 
For  the  Sabine  fathers  ever  entertained  his  country's  good  a 

heart, 

In  that  there  might  some  good  arise  from  this  queer  miscegena- 
tion, 

And  that  it  were  better  to  live  together  than  to  live  and  figh; 
apart. 

So  another  case  of  satisfaction  took  place  in  similar  cause, 
When  the  Horatii  and  Curatii  got  into  a  shameful  scrape, 

And  the  women  rushed  in  to  rescue  in  the  midst  of  their  angry 

jaws, 
And  thus  saved  these  ancient  pugilists  a  vast  expense  for  crape. 

This  is  but  a  clear  illustration  of  that  diplomatic  dress 

Which  covers  up  the  skeleton  that  is  said  to  be  hid   in  every 
house. 

When  a  woman,  with  her  tact  and  subtle,  sly  address, 
Slips  in  between  the  combatants,  to  make  it  still  as  a  mouse 

Aboshnow  to  ancient  history,  and  all  these  valorous  Three, 
We  moderns  have  progressed  beyond,  and  war's  now  turne( 

to  peace, 
And  we  are  pleased  to  tell  another  talo  in  this  land  now  clear  am1 

free, 
Of  a  certain  happy  triple  band,  whose  friendship  brings  me 


63 

These  are  living  on  a  quiet  street,  where  the  corner  never  meets, 
Where  are  passages  and  alleyways,  not  far  from  Freres  acros* 

the  way, 

But  no  passenger  intrudes  here,  and  no  sister  sly  leer  greets 
Nor  salutation  from  a  stranger,  by,  "  Sir,  are  you  going  to  the 
play?" 

But  this  union  of  brothers  whom  I  am  bound  to  call  my  friends 
Having  such  a  charming  sweet  variety  of  little  airs  and  graces. 

That  all  the  banterings  of  repartee  and  sharp  difference  of  ends 
Would  not  change  a  single  feature  of  their  noble,  handsome 
faces. 

Talk  of  parts  and  cultivation,  the  Romans  and  the  Greeks 
Could  not  hold  a  candle  for  the  varied  lights  that  shine 

Through  the  windows  of  their  intellects  which  every  wisdon 

seeks, 
To  illuminate  the  windows  of  this  crazy  bark  of  mine. 

The  first,  he,  of  Paganini,  took  a  notion  to  procure 
All  the  old  Cremonas  he  could  get  from  every  southern  se? 
remote, 

And  once  listen  as  he  soundeth  his  Barbiton  so  sure, 
You'd  thought  that  all  Eolia  had  sent  his  winds  afloat. 

That  even  Melebeus  to  hisTityrus  couldn't  warble  songs  so  fire 
That  even  the  sweet  nightingale  singing  out  her  songs  at  night 

In  the  vales  of  Valambrosa,  where  the  herbs  are  sure  to  cure, 
And  woods  are  filled  with  fragrance  that  yields  the  soui 
delight. 

With  a  brother  not  so  gifted,  but  remarkable  in  mind  and  cul- 
tivation, 
Who  would  not  exchange  his  native  home  for  any  foreigh 

place, 
In  any  court  ol  Europe,  surely  not  for  France,  that  very  funn} 

nation, 

Where  Americans  are  sadly  noted  for  their  fondness   of 
grimace. 


64 

There  still  remains  another  scion  of  this  family  of  R  inaine, 
Whose  ancestry  from  Scottish  chiefs  had  an  offshoot  very  old 

They  were  canny  as  old  cavaliers  of  the  brightest  days  of  Spain, 
Who  were  clever  at  the  short-sword  and  habergeon,  and  bold, 

A.S  the  lions  of  Castile  or  the  braves  of  Salamanca, 
And  bright  as  the  sun  at  Port-del-Sol  near  by  the  rough 

Sierras  bold, 
Which  frown  in  all  that  keenest  cold,  over  the  vales  of  poor 

La  Mancha, 
Where  the  old  hidalgoes  gossip,  and  merchandise  is  sold. 

The  last,  he  was  a  counselor-at-law,  and  of  that  very  clever  wit, 
Which  could  rightly  guide  the  ship  of  State  through  many  a 
blowing  storm, 

Who,  as  to  his  churchmansbip,  was  the  equal  of  Dewitt, 
So  gifted  was  he  in  canon  lore,  and  every  rubric  form. 

Thus  with  music  and  with  chivalry,  and  every  other  grace  united. 
These  brothers  were  like  preux  Bayards  in  this  very  pleasant 

family, 
Blessed  with  the  virtues  of  their  parents,  who  were  so  good  and 

holy  plighted ; 

For  had  their  lives  been  fully  read,  'twould  seem  like  ancient 
homily. 

Such  as  when  one  finds  in  the  archives  of  the  old  convents 

samples, 
Where  illuminated  missals  decked  in  every  form  of  fruits  and 

flowers, 
Rinoming  entwiixed    'mid  angels  in  a  marginal  of  beautiful 

example? 

Just  as  the  holy  monks  passed  all  their  lives  in  prayer  and 
happy  hours. 


65 


1STEWTOWN,    BUT    NOT    NEWTONIAN. 

"A  SERIOUS  TALE." 

It  is  an  old  proverb  that  "  when  rogues  fall  out, 
honest  men  get  their  rights."  Lord  Bacon  very  quaintly 
has  remarked,  in  that  clever  style  of  philosophy  which 
formed  the  origin  of  the  inductive  school,  that  "  be  is 
the  best  man  who  does  the  best  thing  to  be  done  in  the 
times  in  which  he  is  living." 

But  modern  philosophers  have  rather  reversed  the 
practical  teachings  of  induction,  and  being  led  astray 
by  certain  foolish  schemes  of  their  own  invention,  and 
governed  always  by  that  supreme  autocracy  of  self, 
which  brooks  no  rival  and  courts  no  counsel,  having 
once  departed  from  that  great  charter  of  all  human 
rights,  "  By  the  sweat  of  your  brow  you  shall  earn  your 
bread,"  very  fanatically  getting  something  on  the  brain, 
make  fearful  leaps  into  gulfs  that  know  no  bottom,  and, 
like  ships  without  ballast,  flounder  into  a  perplexity  of 
difficulties  and  danger,  as  horrible  as  the  maelstrom,  and 
as  deep  as  the  grave.  Such  have  always  been  swal- 
lowed up  by  their  own  vanity,  and  have  gone  to  the  very 
bottom  of  the  oozy  deep. 

Hardly  any  of  those  philosophers  who  planted  the 
Utopia  of  Newtown  ever  sat  down  to  consider  that  all 
Chateaux  en  Espagne  have  been  ever  built  upon  blad- 
ders and  balloons,  typically  illustrating  those  genera  of 
animated  nature  denominated  as  looms  and  balloons. 
But  we  pass  over  such  infirmities  of  the  human  species, 


66 

and  proceed  at  once  to  the  moral,  which  will  close   up 
this  chapter  in  our  annals  of  Foolishness. 

A  forlorn  maiden  who  had  once  lost  a  husband,  thrown 
apon  the  world  for  a  support  to  be  derived  from  those 
"fiends  whom  she  had  known  during  the  lifetime  of  he:- 
octtcr  half,  in  the  depth  of  her  grief  and  sorrow  fled  into 
the  wilderness  of  misfortune  to  conceal  her  meditations 
and  her  misery  ;  alas  I  she  found  with  the  poet  that — 

1 '  When,  lovely  woman  stoops  to  folly, 
And  finds,  alas  !  that  men  betray, 
What  grief  can  soothe  her  melancholy, 
What  tears  can  wash  her  grief  away  ?" 

Guilty  in  the  sense  of  having  swallowed  a  gilded  pill, 
she  found  out  too  late  that  it  was  but  a  poisoned 
chalice. 

We  have  no  particular  enmity  against  any  class  of 
lunatics.  Many  have  been  confined  as  such  who  were 
merely  simpletons.  A  more  dangerous  class  have  been 
left  out  of  the  mad-house  to  prey  upon  the  world  at 
large,  who,  having  no  feelings  for  humanity  as  the  sad, 
earnest,  but  weak  creations  of  a  beneficent  Providence, 
draw  large  drafts  on  their  imagination  for  their  facts  ; 
and  by  their  own  blindness,  curtailed  of  the  first  ele- 
mentary properties  of  good  sense,  like  the  fox  in  the 
fable,  with  his  tail  cut  off,  wish  to  draw  the  rest  of  man- 
kind into  the  fashion  of  wearing  no  tails  at  all.  We 
mourn  not  the  tales  of  that  celebrated  authoress,  "  whose 
talcs  were  so  severely  lashed  by  the  critics  that  they 
continue  still  to  be  read  to  this  day."  The  friends  of 
the  community  atNewtown  have,  ever  since  the  bursting 
of  their  bubble,  been  so  red  from  a  sorry  sense  of  shame 


67 

that  they  never  like  to  hear  of  their  follies  in  the  past, 
when  they  were  garrisoned  in  that  charnel-house  of  dis- 
eased brains,  and  were  fed  on  mash  marrow,  which  they 
dipped  out  with  a  general  spoon. 

How  like  spoonies  they  have  since  felt  at  the  least 
reminder  of  such  ephemeral  fantasies  ;  and  how  like 
jackanapes  they  have  since  appeared  to  each  other  when 
thinking  of  the  tales  of  their  common  washtubs,  along- 
side of  the  machinery  bread  knives,  common  potatoes, 
fixings,  and  philosophical  pea-pod  shellings,  with  lunati- 
cal  rhapsodies  over  the  large  tin  basin  ? 

Verily  the  gods  with  hyperion  curls  and  ambrosial 
locks  seemed  again  to  have  left  Olympus,  and  Pan  him- 
self ruled  over  sheep  and  shepherdesses  in  these  Arca- 
dian groves. 

How  sweet  the  potatoes  tasted  under  the  soothing 
melody'of  fostering  music  !  How  did  the  groves  re- 
sound with  the  nasal  blasts  of  Arcadian  jackasses  ! 
Italian  nightingales  were  but  blackbirds  or  crows  to 
these.  The  very  pillars  in  their  temple  in  the  groves 
were  fragrant  with  soft  incense,  and  delicious  perfumes 
breathed  through  the  openings  of  the  porticoes.  The 
savory  smell  of  common  mortals'  dinners  was  too  Hiber- 
nian for  these  new  lights  of  the  world.  Humanitarian- 
ism  shut  up  its  nose  at  the  very  mention  of  broad  acres 
and  the  practical  cultivation  of  the  soil. 

Farming  was  to  be  carried  on  by  simple  speculations 
on  the  theory  of  development,  and  pork  and  beans  were 
to  be  exorcised  into  winds  from  old  Boreas,  and  vegeta- 
tion was  to  sprout  by  spontaneous  combustion  into  the 
esthetical  elements  of  a  supernatural  philosophy  and 


68 

superhuman  contrivances  for  dispensing  with  the  use  of 
labor. 

Children  were  to  be  raised  by  the  easy  process  of  in- 
oculating them  with  those  blocks  of  beauties  that  were 
presented  to  their  gloating  visions.  Photographic 
reflections  of  sunlight  were  to  paint  the  beauty  of  all 
existences  into  the  very  soul  of  the  embryo  infant.  The 
parent  was  to  conceive  only  to  beget  a  perfect  child,  and 
all  the  natural  devil  which  might  have  been  transmitted 
to  the  child  by  some  unfortunate  ancestor  was  to  be 
driven  out  by  the  bare  depiction  of  a  winged  seraph 
planted  on  the  branches  of  a  blossoming  peach-tree. 

Humanity  was  thus  buried  in  the  apocalypse  of  earth, 
and  all  nature  was  shrouded  for  a  cataplasm  of  entomb- 
ment, so  gorgeous,  so  brilliant,  glorious,  and  inviting 
that  perfection  was  to  be  established  as  a  mere  matter  of 
course,  and  the  beatitudes  were  to  bloom  in  the  bosom 
of  godliness,  and  repose  there  in  a  symposium  of  Apol- 
lonic  forms  and  sympathetic  graces,  where  all  the 
gardens  were  to  breathe  of  the  otto  of  roses,  and  the 
sky  of  the  soul  was  to  be  that  interior  life  of  virtue 
which  was  too  delicate  to  be  bruised,  and  not  unlike 
the  atnlosphere  preponderating  man  not  felt  by  these 
puling  pollywogs  and  modern  Abderites. 

The  disciples  of  old  Zoroaster  were  far  behind  these 
modern  sky-scrapers,  who  were  for  sweeping  the  moon 
before  they  had  purchased  a  ladder  to  reach  it  ;  and  not 
unlike  those  philosophers,  of  like  wisdom,  these  were 
building  fountains  where  there  was  no  water  to  fill 
them,  and  statues  raised  so  high  in  tho  air  that  the 
images  could  hardly  be  seen  by  the  skylark 

Such  men  as  these  want  no  Sunday  to  rest  in  ;  wiser 


69 


than  Providence,  they  often  forget  to  procure  any  pro- 
vender to  fill  their  hollow  bodies,  Having  gas-light  in 
their  heads,  they  carry  lanterns  inside  of  earthen  pitch- 
ers, which,  being  struck  with  implements,  like  spiritual 
violins,  give  out  uncertain  sounds,  and  yield  no  harmo- 
nies, but  very  sorry  groanings.  Like  voltaic  batteries, 
constructed  of  copper  and  zinc,  they  have  a  large  share 
of  brass,  and  are  dead  to  any  sensibilities  for  communi- 
cations to  human  intelligences.  They  build  up  mansions 
in  the  overland  to  inhabit  them,  as  they  sink  in  the 
northern  seas,  and  their  reflections,  like  the  flashes  of 
the  aurora,  are  as  evanescent  as  the  bubbles  from  the 
bottom  of  a  river,  and  luminously  flashing  and  lurid  as 
the  phosphorescent  emissions  from  rotten  punk.  Such 
people,  not  unlike  empty  vessels  when  struck,  always 
sound  the  loudest. 


GARDENS  OF  DELIGHT. 


4i  While  within  my  garden  roving, 

And  my  senses  all  are  fed, 
Eising  from  these  loved  attractions, 
I'm  to  nobler  subjects  led. 

Other  gardens 
Here,  in  musing,  oft  I  tread. 

"In  the  Church,  the  Saviour's  garden, 

Trees  and  plants  and  flowers  I  see; 
Guarded,  watered,  trained,  and  cherished, 
Blooming  immortality  ; 
All,  0  Calvary! 
All  derived  alone  from  thee. 

"  But,  above  all  gardens  precious, 

See  the  heavenly  Paradise  ; 
There  the  Tree  of  Life  is  bearing  ; 
There  the  springs  of  glory  rise  : 

And  the  richness 
Every  want  supplies. 

44  There  the  foot  no  thorn  e'er  pierces  ; 

There  the  heart  ne'er  heaves  a  sigh  ; 
There  in  white  we  walk  with  Jesus, 
All  our  loved  connections  by. 

And  to  reach  it 
'Tis  a  privilege  to  die." 


FINIS, 


INDEX. 


PAGE. 

Title 1 

Preface 3 

Book  First :  Stowe 5 

Book  Second  :  Manchester  Village . . 13 

Church  Bells— Herbert 10 

Book  Third  :  Owl's  Head  Mountain 20 

Summer  Days  at  Stowe 27 

Book  Fourth  :  Continuation  of  Stowe 28 

Brattleboro'  and  Vicinity 32 

Foreign  Imputations 37 

Poetry  :  A  Welcome— To  the  Soldiers 39 

Flowers  in  a  Glass  Vase 40 

Dual  Triad  of  Sisters 41 

Tomb  of  the  Martyrs,  at  Wallabout 42 

Poetry  :  A  Refrain 45 

Bloomingdale  Stage  Memories 47 

A  Ramble  in  July., 48 

Colonel  O'Brian — Soldier  of  Fortune 61 

Poetry  :  Old  Belies  of  '76 55 

A  Psalm  of  Life 58 

Triads  of  the  Past  and  Present 61 

Newtown,  but  not  Newtonian 65 

?ootry  :  Gardens  of  Delight 70 


SING   SING, 

OR 

]?msoisr  LI 


Ugly  indorsements  of  the  puzzle  and  perplexity  of 
society,  hateful  fruits  of  a  tree  whose  roots  trip  us  in 
every  court  and  alley,  baleful  apples  of  Hesperus, 
guarded  by  a  dragon  with  leather  spectacles  over  his 
hundred  eyes,  are  our  prisons,  for  how  many  among  us 
really  know  anything  of  them?  Gradgrind  has  statis- 
tics, plenty  of  them  ;  he  is  learned  in  police  reports, 
posted  in  the  matter  of  contracts.  Easy  people  in 
general  are  put  off  by  the  dictionary.  Careless  people 
visit  them  very  much  as  they  would  a  menagerie,  with- 
out so  much  as  a  guess  at  this  world  as  sad,  as  silent, 
as  intimately  interwoven  with  all  our  living  and  doing, 
and  almost  as  unknown  as  the  kingdom  of  lost  spirits. 
But  try  now  a  little  to  conceive  what  this  life  really  is — 
a  life  that  commences  with  a  rattling  of  bolts  and  jarring 
of  heavy  iron  doors,  a  going  over  of  registers,  and  a 
shuffling  tramp  along  the  stony  wards  of  men  and 
women  going  to  their  work  ;  rules  differing  somewhat 
in  the  various  institutions,  associations  allowed  in 
some,  solitary  meals  arid  work  required  in  others,  but 
everywhere  life  parceled,  measured  out  ;  women  stitch- 
ing in  silence,  men  moving  about  amidst  creaking, 
grinding,  clicking,  hammering,  all  manner  of  uncouth 
machine  noises,  impressive  as  statues,  forlorn  as  Eblis, 
but  all  working  with  a  horrible  automaton-like  indus- 
try ;  wax-like  neatness  (for  government  is  the  best  of 
housekeepers),  system,  precision,  order,  vigilance 
everywhere. 

This  is  the  surface  ice.  Kid-glove  finger-tip  philan- 
thropy is  powerless  to  break  it.  Far-off  preaching 
from  the  heights  of  our  virtue  is  too  cool  to  melt  it.  To 


74 

know  anything1  of  these  Hecla  hearts,  there  must  be  an 
actual  going  down  among  the  publicans  and  sinners. 
We  must  at  least  allow  these  felons  the  common  ground 
of  our  humanity ;  must  picture  to  ourselves  this  humanity 
in  most  instances  possessed  of  a  childhood  without  hope 
or  memory  of  tenderness,  without  knowledge  of  the 
name  of  God,  much  less  Ris  nature,  with  no  teacher 
but  instinct,  no  incentive  but  want,  arriving  at  maturity 
with  no  resources  but  those  of  sin,  no  creed  but  that  of 
the  devil  ;  those  who  have  fallen  from  at  least  an  out- 
ward respectability,  pressed  down  with  shame,  mad- 
dened with  regret  and  anxiety,  and  filled  with  horror 
at  the  vile  companionship  into  which  they  are  thrown. 
Such  are  the  flock  of  black  sheep  whom  we  must  either 
lead  or  drive.  Let  them  alone  we  cannot,  it  being  one 
of  the  pleasant  peculiarities  of  sin  that,  if  we  do  not  find 
it  out,  it  will  us,  coming  up  into  our  very  bed-chambers 
with  the  impudence  of  the  frogs  of  Egypt. 

Decision  between  the  two  systems  (leading1  and 
driving)  seems  easy,  if  success  bo  admitted  as  a  test  of 
merit,  yet  on  no  subject  is  there  louder  or  more  unsatis- 
factory debate.  It  is  fiercely  argued  : 

"You  must  whip  and  starve  your  menagerie  into 
submission.  Put  down  the  rebellious  beasts  as  Alder- 
man Cute  did  young  mothers  and  suicides,  and  keep 
them  down." 

It  is  keenly  contended  in  reply: 

"If,  after  you  have  chained  and  whipped  your  tiger 
for  the  given  term  of  years,  he  still  shows  no  leaning  to 
the  lamb  persuasion,  might  it  not  be  wiser  to  let  loose 
a  menagerie  of  the  four-footed  striped  gentry  than  one 
striped  biped,  lower  in  degradation,  blacker  in  purpose, 
harder  in  heart  than  when  the  relentless  gates. first 
closed  upon  him  ?  "  Meanwhile  an  officer  twenty-three 
years  in  the  service,  in  an  interesting  work  (Life  in 
Sing  Sing),  offers  a  little  of  the  much  needed  light  on  the 
different  theories,  and  their  operation. 

Solitary  confinement  without  labor  had  been  tried  at 
Auburn,  with  such  success  that,  out  of  eighty  convicts 
thus  immured,  five  died,  one  went  raving  rnad,  one  poor 


To 

soul  watched  his  time  and  dashed  himself  over  the 
gallery,  and  government  was  fain  to  let  loose  the  rest 
in  all  haste  lest  it  should  be  found  guilty  of  murder 
within  the  year.  In  1839  an  uneasy  public  conscience 
spoke  out  in  the  report  of  a  Prison  Committee,  a 
radical  document,  boldly  affirming  "  that  convicts  were 
influenced  by  hopes  and  fears,  capable  of  reflection  and 
judgment,  moved  to  anger  by  stripes,  governed,  like  the 
rest  of  mankind,  by  their  mental  faculties."  This 
Jacobin  of  a  Committee  takes  exception  to  punishments 
of  eighty  or  a  hundred  lashes,  inflicted  by  an  instrument 
which  multiplies  every  stroke  by  six  for  small  offenses. 
One  thousand  lashes  in  three  weeks  for  a  maniac  con- 
vict, were  pronounced  too  many.  Moral  burying  alive,  by 
prohibition  of  all  letters,  visitation  of  friends,  and  con- 
versation, except  religious,  worked  strangely  ill.  The 
prisoners  ran  away  by  dozens,  preferring  the  risk  of 
being  shot  by  the  guards,  to  a  death  served  out  in  inch 
pieces.  Contrary  fellows,  these  convicts  1  behaving  inde- 
cently well  under  the  milder  regime,  following  that 
fanatical  report.  Absolutely  liking  to  read ;  liking  their 
Sabbath-schools  and  the  visits  and  letters  of  their  friends; 
not  rising  in  rebellion,  as  was  prophesied,  when  they 
saw  their  warden  by  the  bedside  of  their  sick  and  dying; 
but  one  attempt  at  escape  in  all  those  golden  years  ;  no 
insurrections  ;  order  and  honesty  vouched  for  in  the 
reports  as  on  the  increase — practical  and  convincing 
proofs  these  of  the  determined  perversity  of  the  convict 
mind  I 

It  is  refreshing  to  come  to  the  times  when  political 
changes  in  1843  raised  up  new  inspectors — "Pharaohs 
which  knew  not  Joseph,77  "second  Daniels  come  to 
judgment,'1  discoursing  after  this  wise  :  To  talk  of  the 
power  of  moral  suasion  in  a  community  of  felons  is  to 
talk  nonsense.  The  tiger  in  his  cage  may  lawn  and 
seem  to  be  subdued,  but  open  his  prison  door  and  he  is 
again  the  tiger  of  the  jungle.  To  prate  about  the  sub- 
duing power  of  kindness  and  sympathy  is  worse  than 
preposterous." 

Away  went  Sunday-school,  library,  all.     The  hounds 


7G 

were  to  be  whipped  into  submission.  The  new  keepers 
were  men  with  their  eye-teeth  cut,  and  nonsense  would 
not  go  down  with  them  ;  and  the  convicts,  speedily 
seeing  this,  settled  down  into  quietness  arid  submission 
of  course  !  Such  submission  as  Netherlands  yielded 
Spain,  such  quietude  as  that  of  Italy,  such  content- 
ment as  has  anything  possessed  of  a  soul  not  equal 
parts  milk  and  water  under  rank  injustice  (for  injus- 
tice can  be  done  even  a  convict),  only  here  it  was  not 
virtue,  dauntless  against  tyranny,  but  evil  against  evil, 
devil  against  devil,  and  so  the  conflict  lost  nobility, 
and  was  simply  bloody. 

Serving  out  a  sentence  of  fifteen  years  at  that  time 
was  one  Jim,  a  fellow  who  had  been  captured  only  after 
desperate  resistance,  an  excellent  specimen  of  the  tiger 
referred  to  in  the  report  of  1843  ;  an  indomitable 
animal  that  would  not  down  for  flogging,  heading  every 
"  upstir"  arid  "break  out,"  till  the  keepers  hit  on  the 
simple  expedient  of  punishing  Jim  for  every  offense 
committed  in  his  shop.  Denial  was  not  listened  to  ; 
explanation  followed  by  an  increase  of  punishment. 
The  entrance  of  several  armed  keepers  grew  to  be  at 
last  a?  =an  unknown  quantity  of  lashes  for  Jim.  Then 
this  tiger  bethought  himself  to  do  what  any  other  poor 
hunted  creature  would,  stand  at  bay.  One  day  he 
turned  on  his  tormentors,  seized  a  bar  of  red-hot  iron 
from  his  forge,  dashed  in  among  them,  careless  of  loaded 
canes  and  whizzing  bullets,  knocked  down  one,  half 
killed  another,  sent  a  third  scampering  for  his  life, 
yielded  only  to  overpowering  numbers,  went  to  the 
whipping-post,  of  course,  was  tortured  till  he  could 
bear  no  more,  thrown  aside  with  the  threat  of  another 
hundred  lashes  as  soon  as  his  back  could  bear  it,  and 
so  on  in  infernal  series.  Bleeding,  fainting,  hopeless, 
God  and  man  seemingly  as  cold  to  him  as  the  stones  of 
his  cell,  the  chaplain  found  him. 

Jim's  explanation  was  simple. 

"Death  from  a  bullet,  I  thought,  was  better  than  slow 
torture  by  the  cat.  I  had  done  nothing  wrong  ;  I  was 
frantic.  I  had  rather  die  than  live,"  he  whispered  faintly. 


77 

Meantime  the  Committee  on  Punishments  were  dis- 
satisfied. The  reported  number  of  lashes  during1  these 
three  months  of  terror  was  enormous,  discipline  not- 
withstanding down  at  the  heel  and  out  at  elbows, 
escapes  provokingly  numerous,  and  all  this  blessv  d 
dissatisfaction  was  light  for  Jim  and  others  like  him. 
He  was  allowed  an  examination,  proved  innocent,  on 
the  whole  a  decent  sort  of  tiger,  as  tigers  go.  In  less 
than  a  year  this  desperate  ringleader,  this  incorrigible 
convict,  had  the  sole  charge  of  making  and  repairing 
all  the  iron  bolts  used  in  the  Branch  Croton  Aque- 
duct, a  shop  some  sixty  yards  from  the  prison,  and  a 
piece  of  land  allowed  him  as  a  garden  on  the  score  of 
merit,  and  in  1851  he  received  a  pardon,  based  on  the 
recommendation  of  the  prison  authorities. 

Damaging  a  case  like  that  in  its  tendencies  to  such 
reports  as  that  of  1843  !  in  conjunction  with  others  simi- 
lar, making  people  ask  if,  after  all,  these  convicts  were 
not  very  much  as  other  men  are.  The  officer  on  night 
duty,  making  his  rounds,  hour  after  hour,  in  the  grim 
barred  wards,  can  tell  of  such  sighs  and  groans,  such 
tears,  such  restless  pacing  up  and  down,  as  might  make 
you  believe  there  were  hearts  beating  under  those 
striped  jackets.  One  man  is  beset  with  fears  for  his 
family  :  "  Oh,  sir,  I  have  had  such  a  dream  about  them  ! 
For  God's  sake,  try  and  find  out  something  about  them!'7 
— that  sounds  human  ;  another  is  groaning  over  his 
guilt  ;  a  third  is  sure  of  pardon  if  his  case  were  but 
known  ;  and  talking  of  pardons,  one  of  the  merciful 
ones  who  remember  "  the  sighing  of  the  prisoner  "  had 
once  the  happiness  to  carry  five  pardons  to  those 
gloomy  walls.  Oh!  such  eyes  of  entreaty,  of  hope,  of 
despair,  as  were  turned  upon  him  !  I  think  it  would 
take  us  several  years  of  stone  everywhere  and  white- 
washed perspective  fully  to  understand  their  woeful 
depths. 

Among  those  who  flocked  about  him  was  an  Irishman, 
a  good-natured,  broad-shouldered  blockhead,  who  had 
blundered  his  way  into  prison,  in  spite  of  the  best  efforts 
of  his  employer,  the  agent  of  the  Prison  Association,  and 


78 

the  court  itself,  to  keep  him  out.     He  was  foremost,  his 
great  frame  trembling  with  excitement. 

"  And  is  it  me  pardon  that  you've  brought,  your 
honor?7' 

"Well,  Peter,  Pm  sorry,  but  the  fact  is,  the  Governor 
hesitated  about  granting"    so  many  pardons  ;  however, 
don't  be  discouraged.     Your  case  is  under  consideration. 
You  will  get  it  in  a  month  or  so." 
"  Oh  !  your  honor,  a  month  ?  " 

"  Well,  well,  you  are  sure  to  get  it,  you  know;  it 
will  be  sent  down." 

'*  But,  if  your  honor  had  only  brought  it  your  own  self." 

"  I  know  it  is  hard.      I  should  like  to  see  you  out  of 

this  myself,  and  if  you  would  be  sensible — I  don't  know 

— we  might  get  it  in  a  couple  of  weeks  ;  but  you  would 

be  childish  over  it,  I  know  you  would." 

"  Not  I,  your  honor  ;  don't  ye  see  Pm  calm  intirely  ?  " 

"  If  I  only  thought  so  ;  I   am  sorry  for  you,  Peter. 

Who  knows  ?  we  might  get  it  sooner — say  three  or  four 

days;  and  if  ycu'll  be  a  man  about  it,  I've  half  a  mind 

to  say  I'll  stay  and  wait  with  you  till  it  comes." 

"  Your  honor  !  your  honor  !  sure  I  don't  know  what's 
come  over  me,  but  I  can't  help  misdoubting  that  ye've 
got  it  in  your  pocket." 

"  And  if  I  had,  now,  you  wouldn't  be  childish  ?" 
"  Divil  a  bit,  your  honor  !  I'd  first  say,  God  bless  your 
honor  ! — not  a  word  more." 

"  Well,  then,  here  is  your  pardon,  Peter." 
Peter  had  promised  not  to  be  childish,  but  not  a  word 
was  said  of  women,  so  he  fainted,  like  one,  dead  away, 
and  there  was  no  small  stir  to  bring  him  to.     This  done 
at  last : 

"  How  is  this,  Peter  ?     I  thought  you  was  to  be  a  man." 
"  I — I — another  time,  Mr.  B.,"  and  he  breaks  out  sob- 
bing. 

Lingering  doubts  still  assailed  him.  He  was  scarcely 
yet  sure  of  the  blessed  news,  till  he  stood  on  the  top  of 
the  hill,  looking  down  at  the  stone  walls  blinking  with 
their  narrow  slits  of  windows,  as  if  they  had  gone  blind, 
and  off  at  the  free  river  and  the  purple  hills,  and  all 


79 

over  these  last  Freedom  was  written  in  such  plain  hand 
that  its  thought  at  last  found  lodgment  in  his  bewil- 
dered brain,  and  thrilled  him  with  an  ecstasy  ;  and, 
jumping  almost  his  own  height  from  the  ground,  and 
shouting,  "  Fm  free,  Mr.  B.,  Fm  free,"  ho  started  off  on 
a  keen  run  that  never  once  slackened  till  he  reached  the 
depot.  A  vehement,  ill-regulated  Irishman,  but  exceed- 
ingly humane,  and  it  is  comfortable  to  add  that  he  has 
retained  to  the  present  day  in  +hc  service  and  the  confi- 
dence of  his  old  employers. 

Many  such  prisoners  are  tnere  ;  much  foothold  is 
there  for  an  earnest  humanity,  not  an  inch  of  soil  for 
the  growth  of  a  sentimental  interest.  The  flashy  hero- 
ine of  the  sensation  story  lays  aside  her  velvet  dress, 
and  binds  hats  and  wears  hickory  like  the  rest.  The 
interesting  villain  walks  to  dinner  with  his  hands  on  the 
shoulder  of  some  pickpocket  or  cut-throat.  There  are 
green  spots  in  this  stony  desert.  There  is  a  nursery 
where  you  may  sec  such  fair  little  faces  as  you  kiss 
every  night  in  the  crib  at  home  ;  there  are  cells  gay 
with  pictures  and  all  manner  of  rainbow  ingenuities, 
showing  that  some  of  woman's  best  traits  are  not  yet 
crushed  out ;  yet  you  have  always  a  sense  of  an  orderly 
night-mare  strong  upon  you,  and  the  oppression,  and  the 
instinctive  desire  to  get  out,  and  the  growing  horror  of 
but  one  hour,  might  and  should  tell  what  is  the  weigh- 
ing down  of  years  in  that  gloomy  place. 

Now,  again,  the  convicts  have  their  library,  the  let- 
ter-writing, and  the  visits  of  their  friends,  but  Sabbath- 
schools  are  discontinued,  because  convicts  are  forbidden 
to  act  as  teachers,  and  none  others  could  be  obtained. 

The  reason  for  such  prohibition  seems  difficult  to 
comprehend.  When  the  old-fashioned  snake-heads  did  not 
work,  we  tried  the  T  rail,  -and  if  Ossa  on  Pelion  of 
blankets,  and  yule  fires  did  not  answer  with  small  pox, 
we  tried  fresh  air  and  thin  coverings  ;  but  here  we  have 
beings  who,  following  the  reversed  laws  of  evil,  near  the 
beast  and  the  savage  the  higher  their  degree  in 
wickedness,  and  we  go  on  treating  them  as  beasts  by 
way  of  making  them  men.  The  world  bullied  and 


80 

suspected,  and  gathered  tip  its  skirts  as  they  passed, 
and  so  will  we,  taking  them  up  where  society  chopped 
them,  at  the  prison  gates.  We  will  never  say  to  our- 
selves, This  is  the  old  system  that  has  worked  badly,  let 
us  try  a  new  one  !  What  if  we  could  induce  this  sullen 
beast  to  think  himself  a  man,  arid  believe  that  we 
believe  him  so  ?  The  Committee  of  1839  declared  that 
"  convicts  were  governed,  like  the  rest  of  mankind,  by 
their  mental  faculties."  Rest  of  mankind,  decent, 
civilized,  virtuous  mankind,  which  binds  you  most 
effectually — Argus-eyed  surveillance  or  entire  confi- 
dence ?  Why,  it  is  Heaven's  own  magic  ;  it  has  made 
giants  for  the  nonce  out  of  moral  pigmies,  brought 
great  deeds  out  of  small  souls.  If  you  are  insensible 
to  it,  you  are  behind  the  convicts,  for,  on  the  word  of  a 
servant  of  Christ,  so  arc  not  they.  The  teachers 
selected  were  necessarily  from  among  the  controlling 
spirits,  who  influenced  their  weaker  brethren  by  means 
of  a  public  opinion,  as  potent  there  as  inside  of  prison 
walls.  Not  one  of  these  teachers  are  registered  a 
second  time  ;  not  one  that  did  not  throw  his  influence  in 
the  scale  of  good  ;  not  one  found,  by  any  breach  of  trust, 
forfeiting  so  rare  and  sweet  a  treasure.  These  be  facts, 
but  lest  they  should  be  taken,  and  the  causes  left, 
as  Utopian  (dread  word),  I  will  prove  thorn  of  the  same 
family  by  Napoleon  Buonaparte.  That  little  great 
man  gave  most  responsible  offices  to  most  darigeious 
men — to  keep  them  quiet.  Call  him  Utopian,  not  me  ! 
Let  us  not  forget  either  the  serious  objection  taken 
on  the  part  of  tried  and  faithful  officers,  both  English 
and  American,  to  the  contract  system,  a  subject,  by  the 
the  by,  to  be  approached  with  gingerly  caution,  lor  a 
self-supporting  prison  economy  is  the  philosopher's 
stone  after  which  political  economists  are  ever  groping. 
Gradgrind  could  no  further  g*o,  this  once  achieved  • 
it  is  a  thing  sacred.  What  shall  be  done,  then,  to  the 
iconoclast,  who  not  only  refuses  to  bow  down  before  the 
golden  image,  but  even  lifts  profane  hands  against  it  ? 
What  can  happen,  but,  entangled  in  a  labyrinth  of  red 
tape,  to  be  devoured  by  a  Minotaur  of  precedent,  or  to 


.      81 

be  cast  into  a  very  furnace  of  indignation  ;  and  yet  this 
Moloch  gorges,  the  Kecording  Angel  only  knows  how 
many,  men,  and  women's  chances  for  improvement, 
hopes  of  a  better  life  ;  forces  the  less  hardened  of  the 
convicts  into  damaging  contact  with  the  oldest  ;  inter- 
feres at  every  turn  with  every  possible  plan  for  their 
bettering  ;  and  yet  every  true,  and  pure,  and  just 
sentiment  asserts  that  prisons  are  sanitary  measures, 
not  speculations  ;  and  if  philanthropy  is  too  tame,  and 
reform  too  dangerous  a  name  to  conjure  with,  self 
interest  pleads  lest  the  incendiary's  torch  should  fire 
our  hearths,  the  assassin's  knife  be  at  our  throat  ;  that 
the  forty-one  thousand  and  odd  arrests  that  took  place 
last  year  in  the  city  of  New  York  alone  may  not  swell 
till  we  are  swamped  in  a  second  deluge  of  evil, 
smothered  with  the  spreading  malaria  of  sin  ;  and  not 
much  more  worthy  than  this  pitiful  economy,  of  the 
magnanimity  of  a  great  nation,  does  it  seem  to  hang 
the  Damocles  sword  of  our  political  changes  over  the 
prisoner's  scanty  feast.  If  capacity  and  fitness,  not 
political  creed,  are  the  necessary  qualifications  of  a 
prison  officer,  why  should  the  system  that  has  been 
tried  and  works  well  be  exchanged  for  at  least  inex- 
perience and  its  consequent  blunders  ?  "  A  man  who  is 
cruel,"  says  one,  "  should  enter  prison  only  as  a 
convict ;"  and  another,  "  a  man  has  a  right  to  be  com- 
mon-place in  the  great  desert,  but  at  the  head  of  an 
army,  or  of  a  gaol  to  be  common-place  is  an  iniquity  and 
leads  to  crime,"  arid  there  is  no  warrant  that  the  right 
man  in  the  right  place  shall  not  be  exchanged  for  the 
cruel  or  common-place  man.  Surely  the  government  has 
offices  enough  within  its  gift,  without  the  prisoner's 
ewe  lamb.  Surely  it  behooves  that  outward  Chris- 
tianity, and  public  sentiment  that  are  in  reality  the 
prison-keepers  to  look  well  to  these  things,  lest  at  the 
last  they  should  have  to  offer  their  Saviour  only  the 
equivocation  of  Cain  :  "  Am  I  my  brother's  keeper  7' 


WYNKOOP  &  HALLENBECK, 


NO.    113    PULTON    STREET, 


SHORT     NOTICE, 


NEATEST   STYLE, 


THE  LOWEST  CASH  PRICES. 


CLOTH!  rv  <^. 


MANUFACTURERS  OF,    AKD  DEALERS  IN, 


MEN'S,  BOYS',  AND  CHILDREN'S 


Nos.  398,  400,  and  402  Bowery, 
Hew  York. 

This  establishment  is  situated  nearly  opposite  the  Seventh  Regiment 

Armory,  being  a  little  over  one  block  south  of  the  Bible  House, 

and   directly   at  the  junction   of    the    Third  and    Fourth 

avenues,  and  comprises 

THREE  FIVE-STORY  BUILDINGS 

devoted  exclusively  to  the  manufacture  of  and  sale  of  SUPERIOR- 
GARMENTS  FOR  MEN,  BOYS,  AND  CHILDREN,  AT  WHOLE- 
SALE, RETAIL,  OR  TO  ORDER. 

£§f  Most  literal  discount  off  erred  to  the  trade 
FOR  CASH, 


A    REMEDY   FOR    CHOLERA. 


DETROIT,  MICH.,  Dec.  13,  1865. 

BROTHER — In  view  of  the  approach  of  the  cholera  season  I  send 
you  for  the  0.  F.  a  receipt  for  cholera  syrup,  which  I  have  used 
as  a  family  medicine,  for  all  diseases  of  the  bowels,  for  over 
twenty  years,  and  in  past  cholera  seasons,  with  good  effect ; 

2  oz.  Tincture  of  Myrrh, 

"  "  Capsicum, 

"  Essence  of  Peppermint, 
J  "  "  Cinnamon, 

1  gill  best  Brandy. 

In  an  attack  of  the  cholera  I  should  give  from  a  tablespoon  to 
half  a  wine-glass  in  half  a  teacup  of  hot  water.  Soak  the  feet 
in  hot  water  with  some  Cayenne  pepper  in  it,  and  apply  a  mustard 
plaster  to  the  stomach  ;  or  what  is  better  (if  it  can  be  obtained), 
steeped  smart-weed  put  on  the  stomach  as  hot  as  it  can  be  borne. 

The  dose  can  be  repeated  in  from  half  an  hour  to  an  hour, 
according  to  the  nature  of  the  attack.  It  warms  and  invigorates 
the  whole  system,  and  in  eight  cases  out  of  ten,  if  taken  in  time, 
no  further  medical  attendance  will  be  required. 

Though  I  would  not  advise  a  perfect  reliance  on  this  prescrip- 
tion, yet  I  would  use  it  in  the  absence  of  a  physician,  as  a  means 
of  checking  and  giving  relief,  and  if  not  needed  when  he  comes, 
so  much  the  better.  Taken  in  doses  of  from  one  to  three  tea- 
spoonfuls  in  half  a  cupful  of  hot  water  (and  repeated  according  to 
circumstances),  it  is  a  sovereign  remedy  for  all  diseases  of  the 
bowels,  and  no  family  testing  it  will  ever  be  without  it. 

Fraternally,  yours, 

J    O.  MELICK. 


393G 


910001 


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